Instinct 2: Impulse
by EmaniaHilel
Summary: Sequel to Instinct Robin's decided to figure out just what Raven meant by 'that time of the month', but he might not be ready for what exactly he finds... Mind the RATING! UPDATE: Chapter 10-Completeness
1. Impulse

**Disclaimer:** Not mine...make no money off this, blah, blah...

**RATING:** VERY important to mind the **_M_** rating, kiddies! This is more **_M_** rating worthy than anything I've written previously and although it's still not bad to say it's beyond an **_M_** rating, it's pretty darn close. So, if you're young, stay away.

**A/N:** Not beta'd except for plot details. This is the Sequel to _Instinct _which you can find here: (remove the spaces and add the right colons and slashes at the beginning): http / www . fanfiction . net / s / 2410828 / 1 /  
_Full A/N below._

**_Instinct 2: Impulse  
by Emania_**

"_If you let your fear of consequence prevent you from following your deepest instinct, then your life will be safe, expedient and thin."  
_- Katharine Butler Hathaway

"_Show me the woman, however loyal, who does not seek to rouse desire."  
_- Honore de Balzac

According to the lunar calendar, it was exactly one month, nearly to the hour, that _The Incident_ had occurred. (He had, of course, researched Lunar Calendars) It was almost 28 days to the hour that he had encountered Raven in such a strange and disarming state of...being. The whole encounter, which she seemed to have forgotten about, had thrown his whole life for a loop.

Twenty eight days before, she had left him curious and confused, too exhausted and slightly woozy from blood loss to go after her for more questions. And even though the next morning she had knocked on his door and made quick work of healing the wound, as she had promised, she had been back to unemotional normalcy and said not a word about their late night interaction.

It had taken him weeks to figure out whether or not he had ever been close to her during her 'time of the month' as she put it. In the end, he couldn't. Besides the fact that Raven never really acted any differently unless there was some outside force prompting it, she wasn't one to complain or have mood swings or any of the other symptoms usually associated with women in the midst of their cycle. However, he had been able to remember, with a reasonable amount of certainty, that at least twice before, he had wondered at Raven's blatant and illogical desire to be alone and apart from them. The first time he noticed it had been a few months prior to the incident. That night, they had been called to infiltrate an illegal rave in the warehouse district and Raven had begged off. He didn't remember the excuse she gave anymore, but it had seemed strange to him, at the time, as to why she would want to stay behind. It didn't matter that the full Teen Titan force was a bit of overkill for some human drug peddlers, but no matter how minimal the task, Raven was never the kind of person to avoid participating.

That time, he had thought it had to do with her somewhat anti-social tendencies: he had told himself that it was understandable that she wouldn't want to go to a rave filled with people who were drugged, if not drunk and who had absolutely no control over their emotions. But it would make even more sense if she didn't have use of her powers.

He couldn't place another instance of it (after all, Raven was rather anti-social by nature and it was not strange for her to be alone in her room for whole days without emerging) for another few months, until the day, a month before the day of the incident, when the Titans decided to make an evening at home of their unusually slow day. Without warning or explanation, Raven had left the Tower. Just left. No invitations for the others to join her, no 'bye guys, see you later'...nothing.

And when he had confronted her about it, asked her where she was going, what her plans were, before she left, she had shot him a death glare and reminded him in no uncertain terms that he didn't own her off time and that she'd have her communicator if they needed her. He never knew where she went that night, but he did know she didn't come home until way passed 4 in the morning, when he had finally passed out.

But despite all those other strange moments that had occurred and that he had made a mental note about their strangeness, he had never put them together. Never thought to wonder if there was a pattern. He had simply blown both of those instances off at the time as Raven having an 'off' day...in one of her moods, as Beast Boy put it, and when she was back to normal (or whatever normal was for her) the next time he saw her, he had been content to leave it at that.

It hadn't been until she was so completely _off_ during the night the previous month and he had thought about her words that he started to realize there might be a connection:

_'Just that time of the month..._'

It was such a confusing and mysterious puzzle. He thought he knew so much about her, especially after their bond and the whole Trigon issue had been resolved. He didn't think there was much else about her he didn't know. Without even trying, he knew so much about her everyday habits, her likes and dislikes, the way she was most likely to react to something and this new dark and shadowed facet of her character had him wondering every hour of the day not employed otherwise, in trying to figure out what it was.

It was more than just her period, he knew that.

So of course, it couldn't be helped that he'd _need_ to get some answers. That was who _he_ was, after all. There was no way he could be presented with such a puzzle and not try to figure it out. She probably was expecting him to do something, too. And even though she gave no sign of expectancy, didn't even change the way she dealt with him on a day to day basis or during fight or battle, he knew that she _must_ be waiting for him to make his move.

So, with her surely at such a state of alert, how could he approach the problem to assure the best results?

He looked at the calendar and counted one more time to make certain of his calculations. Of course, they weren't any different this time than they had been the last fourteen times he had counted since the plan had occurred to him two weeks ago.

'The Plan,' he thought, chuckling self depreciatingly. 'That's a joke.'

The Plan, as he so graciously called it consisted of nothing more than waiting for the day he calculated must be the key and then confronting her. That was it. He tapped at the date on the calendar. 'Twenty-eight days exactly…tonight,' he thought.

In retrospect, it was surprisingly easy to arrange. And if she had thought it strange that he would be the one to suggest to the Titans that they take an evening off to party, she hadn't let on. She had, as expected, denied joining them all for their partying, claiming when asked, that she had been planning to spend the night meditating and that it wasn't a good idea to put off the balancing effects of her meditation much longer. The others had insisted, begged, pleaded, but Robin had been the voice of reason, reminding them that they should accept their friend's reasoning so that they agreed to leave her in peace.

She hadn't been around when they were all ready to leave, which was why she didn't notice how he took the R-Cycle instead of riding with the others in the T-Car. And she certainly wasn't around when he pretended to remember a previous engagement which he had 'forgotten' until they were already on the road.

If she had been, she might have been a little suspicious then.

But since she wasn't and since it wasn't particularly strange for him to have appointments that he didn't explain about (they always assumed it was dealing with his secret identity life) no one else was suspicious and he made his way back to the Tower, unheeded.

He hoped she had stayed in the Tower.

From everything he had gathered, she preferred to stay in the Tower on these nights rather than go out and only went out if the others were around. (Which in itself was another question he needed answers to: why did she need to be alone in the Tower? Wasn't it enough to be locked away in her room?)

Once he reached Titans Tower, it was a small thing to enter without setting off any of the proximity detectors they had set up by clicking the button on his bike that deactivated them.

She was also surprisingly easy to locate.

Even if he wouldn't have had access to the Tower's computers which could pinpoint humanoid movement anywhere within the Tower and in a twenty feet perimeter to all sides, it would not have taken a genius to know where Raven would likely be on such a bright, clear, moon-kissed night.

The roof was an obvious choice. What had been a bit of a surprise, however, had been exactly where on the roof she had been.

_xxxxxxxx_

Her lithe body cut through the blue green water as if the water itself were helping pull her through. She cut across the length of the rooftop pool with strong, sure, nearly flawless strokes. And when she reached the wall at the deep end, she flipped gracefully under water, pushing off the wall with strong legs and shooting toward the other end.

Robin watched her repeat this ritual in silence, wondering why she hadn't yet noticed his presence and tucking the realization that she hadn't away in his cache of facts about her strange behavior in the hopes that he could make some sense out of it.

That was the reason he had stalked this date and searched her out on it. It was why he had prepared so much and checked and verified his calculations to make certain he had the right date.

Purely academic, of course, his reasons to see Raven again on this day…exactly 28 days from the day last month when she had been so blatantly unlike herself.

It had nothing to do with the way he had to remind himself to breathe as he saw what she was wearing…or, he should say, what she _wasn't_ wearing.

The nearly imperceptible strips of black cloth stood out against her skin and hence brought more attention to the parts of her body they were meant to conceal than might perhaps otherwise have been drawn to them under other circumstances.

He didn't even know Raven owned a bikini, let alone a little black string one. For some reason, the dark scraps of cloth on her opalescent skin glistening with water droplets like shining diamonds in the moonlight looked more erotic than a dozen much more explicit sights he had been witness to.

It wasn't until he found himself wondering about the way her skin looked so white, like marble or fine pearls in the moonlight that he realized she had stopped swimming laps and was floating lazily on the surface of the water, her face up toward the sky and her eyes closed.

So many questions flitted through his mind, begging for attention while other parts of him were wanting to be acknowledged as well. It was a game of tug-o-rope that threatened to give him a headache before he could figure anything out if he didn't decide on one thing to focus on above the others.

Ever the gentlemen, he clutched at the scholastic aspect of the enterprise.

What about this time of the month made Raven act this way? Why did she have the need to swim in a rooftop pool in the middle of the night when she refused to swim with them when they used the pool on summer days? Beast Boy had joked one time that she must have some sort of deformity that would be visible if she wore a swimsuit or bikini, but that theory was shot all to hell as Robin let his eyes take her in. (For the purely scholastic reason of checking her for deformities or scars she might not want visible in the light of day to her friends, of course.) And along that thought pattern, why did she have a bikini anyway if she had never wanted to swim? That she even knew how to swim at all was another surprise since she had never given reasons for not wishing to join them in their nautical fun and another theory (now, obviously debunked) was that she didn't know how to swim and was embarrassed about admitting it.

Robin watched her keep herself afloat with gentle, lazy movements of her wrists and he knew with the comfort and familiarity with which she moved that she knew and had known how to swim for quite some time.

It seemed like forever that she floated there, bathed in the evanescent glow of the moonlight reflecting off the water. So long, in fact, that he started to wonder if maybe he was dreaming. He tore his eyes away from her long enough to look around himself:

He felt the gentle breeze off the ocean caressing his cheek and softly pull at his clothes. It was a warm night, but with the breeze it wasn't too hot for a May night so close to summer. They would be making their own use of the pool soon, he knew. Nearby, on the harbor, a tugboat announced itself. Below them, the ocean pushed at the rocks and in the pool before him, the soft lulling cadence of the ripples hitting the tiles of the pool were in perfect sync with the soft lazy splashes of Raven's hands moving near the surface of the water.

And above him…

He raised his face to the sky and blinked for a few moments at the glowing, otherworldly brightness of the full moon riding high in the very center of the sky. She looked close enough to touch. If this wasn't a dream, Robin decided, he wouldn't know it. But then again, last month, he had also had the feeling that he was not altogether in reality once he came across her. Perhaps, he reasoned, it was something about her time of the month that affected the people around her as well?

Suddenly, he realized that there was something off…as if a switch had been pulled that changed the feel of the night somehow, and just like that, he couldn't hear Raven anymore.

He turned immediately to the pool but she was gone. He couldn't even find her shadow moving under the surface of the water. He thought she might have teleported back to her room or somewhere else, but he remembered that she said she couldn't use her powers during her time of the month, so…where was she?

Forgetting his stealth, he approached the edge of the pool and searched its depths. When he could find her nowhere, he grew worried and leaned even closer to the water to peer at the depths immediately below him.

As if suddenly materializing, Raven broke the surface of the water just inches from his face and it scared him halfway to Metropolis. Avoiding a collision with her, he instinctively, immediately, pulled back. The suddenness of the act stole his balance and he fell backwards hitting the concrete of the roof with his rear. He recovered quickly, standing and dusting himself off and managing to set aside his surprise and shock long enough to glare meaningfully at where she peeked over the edge of the pool, resting her chin on her arms and her arms on the concrete quite casually watching him.

"Boo?" she spoke on a question, her eyebrow quirked.

He took one look at her smug expression and knew instantly that she had been aware of him for quite some time, maybe even since he stepped onto the roof. "You surprised me," he offered.

She raised her eyebrows and shifted in the water, obviously floating, "That's obvious," she agreed.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but couldn't think of anything to say in his defense, so instead, he thought that putting her on the defensive would be his best bet, "You're swimming," he accused, pointing in her general direction.

She cocked her head to the side and looked almost cute. "No, I'm floating."

He just barely resisted a long suffering sigh, "You _were_ swimming, then."

She didn't look at all apologetic, "You were watching."

He was shocked into showing his surprise, "You knew," he replied, not a question, but a statement of fact.

She grinned and the sight of it was brilliant and shocking and casual and graceful and utterly feminine and it blew him completely away. As if that weren't enough, she leaned her cheek on her arms and looked at him through lashes and stray wet hair. "Why didn't you go with the others?"

He obviously couldn't tell her the truth. Still, he couldn't get his brain to work around a credible lie. "I preferred to be here," he finally settled on a half-truth.

She shifted and something she did, although outwardly minuscule, had drastic consequences. She did nothing more than leverage herself up slightly, just enough to rest her arms on the edge of the pool, theoretically to better look at him. It was an innocent act, logical and understandable. There didn't appear to be anything purposefully provocative in the way she rested her chin on her crossed arms while she balanced herself. Nothing _outwardly_ at least. But physically? The result was devastating on his state of mind. He lost his train of thought and could think of nothing but wondering if Raven's breasts had always been that_...prominent._ Before he could investigate too far, however, her voice cut through him again.

"Why?"

The simple question caught him completely off guard and he blinked a few times, "Why what?" he had well and truly forgotten what they were talking about.

She grinned that brilliant grin again and pressed against the tile as if to get a better grip, "Why did you prefer to be here?" she clarified.

Robin tried admirably to keep his thoughts in order and away from the way the porcelain like mounds of flesh at her chest seemed to strain against the lycra, the pearlescent beads of water glistening on the flesh visible around the thin black fabric. He wasn't too close to her, but he had good enough vision to see notice the goosebumps form on her skin. He shook his head, more in an attempt to clear it than to denote an answer to her, and wondered when he had become such a breast man? The truth was, even if he wasn't distracted by her ample bosom, he didn't know what to answer. Frankly, Robin didn't exactly know who he was talking to. This wet and supple and beautiful girl not two feet away from him was _not_ Raven…at least, not the Raven he knew. It was as if someone else were speaking, not Raven who was usually cynical, sometimes sarcastic but always reserved. This girl was sexy and not only knew it, but flaunted it. And yet, still managed to look and act innocent.

She must have been cold by then because she shivered a little and even that reaction made parts of his body respond. He watched as she released the edge of the pool and with a slight splash, had sunk back into the water. She allowed herself to dunk under the surface for a few moments and when she reemerged, she was glistening with water once again, her lovely lavender hair nearly black in the half light and dripping down her back and over her face. She approached the edge again and looked up at him, "Well?" she asked.

"Well?" he echoed, watching in something not unlike a trance as she was casually, almost absently, cupping water and pouring it on different, exposed parts of her to keep herself warm.

She chuckled, and the sound was dark and rich, like thick chocolate, "You're sweating Robin."

Her voice, cool and smooth, like ice melting in a tall glass brought his attention away from the parts of her body she was offering attention to and he realized she was right. His eyes trailed the path of the water she was pouring rhythmically over her shoulders and he was once again entranced as he followed it's downward descent into the cleavage of her bikini. She stopped and he realized he had been staring. He licked his lips unconsciously and wiped at his brow, "It's warm out here," he offered, almost automatically.

She offered him a subdued version of the brilliant smile. "Then why don't you come into the pool?" she raised the hand and let the water trickle across her almost bare shoulder, "It's nice and cool in here…"

"I…I…" he realized he was stammering, not because he didn't know what he wanted to say or how to say it, but because he kept being distracted before he could speak it all. He swallowed and looked at her eyes, but even there he could find distraction in the warm, welcoming smile he saw in them.

She chuckled and pushed away from the concrete edge, keeping herself aloft by moving her arms slowly. "Heat got your tongue?" she asked innocently.

In these circumstances, he realized, the best course of action was to retreat.

"I'm bothering you," he started, mentally telling his legs to move. They wouldn't listen.

"You're not," she assured him softly.

"I should go…" he finally got one leg to move and he had almost convinced himself that it was the right thing to do when he heard the sound of water splashing and before he knew it, he had turned back to look at what had happened.

Which really had been the mistake from which there was absolutely no return. Robin was a gentleman, and he was respectful and loyal and he was rather good at controlling most of his baser instincts (anger and temper aside). However, he was also a young man of just barely 19, much too young to have the vision before him and not feel some stirring in his blood. And considering that Raven stood before him, in nothing more but some measley scraps of black lycra clinging to her moist, glistening skin in some vague, (albeit obviously pointless) attempt to salvage her modesty, he really did behave himself quite admirably. After all, his jaw nearly hitting the floor and all conscious and logical thought draining (along with the blood) to pool somewhere in the vicinity of his lower regions was quite a normal reaction to such a vision of sensual temptations made flesh.

As it was, he was lucky he had enough self control to keep from falling on his knees before her or reaching out to touch her with something other than his eyes.

She meanwhile, seemed to be waiting. The only sound seeming to come from his abnormally heavy breathing, the echo of his heart in his own ears, and the faint, almost inaudible sound of the water off her body dripping on the pavement. His eyes found the water pooling at her bare feet and he wondered absently how long he had been staring.

She moved, shifting the weight of her feet and rather than knocking him back to his senses, the movement did nothing more but to draw his attention back to her oh-so-shapely legs as she began walking. His eyes followed her, slowly rising from legs to buttocks, to waist, to back and finally, when she turned around with a white towel in her hands, to stomach and chest and graceful neck and chin and lips and brow and hair...

He couldn't help but follow the towel as she gracefully dried off certain parts of her body. When she reached her face, she stopped, the towel held against her cheek and he found himself staring at her amazing eyes which were staring right at him.

He didn't realize it right away, but she had been giving him quite a show. When he did realize it, he blinked and remembered in some part of his mind that he had been about to leave. He shifted his own weight and tried to remember which way was out, but her voice drew him back to her eyes.

"Afraid?" she challenged.

His pride reacted before the rest of him could and he scoffed, "No, of course not…of what?"

"Of this…" she motioned around them and took one graceful step toward him, her pale, bare foot making an almost inaudible sound as she touched the concrete. "Of that…" she motioned up at the moon and he glanced up as if to make certain it was still there. "…and what it's doing to me…" When he looked at her again, she was a mere few inches away from him. He held himself back from giving ground. "Of me…" she leaned in to him and he felt drops that had been trailing off her skin fall on his chest. "…and what I might do…" she whispered so that her breath just barely grazed his cheek. To his credit, he didn't pull back. He did close his eyes however, and clenched his hands into fists to keep from touching her. "Of us…" she pulled back and the cool, silky smooth fingers of her right hand were touching his cheek, turning him to face her, while her left hand was trailing over his right arm, caressing his skin as she lowered it past his wrist to finally come to rest over his hand, laying her fingers around his fist, "Of what you came here to find out."

She was right and he knew it. He had come searching for this, and now he found it. He met her gaze which had uncannily found his even though he still wore the mask and allowed his fingers to uncurl from the tight fist.

He was so close to her now that he could feel the humidity still on her skin, the water dripping off her hair catching on his sleeve.

He opened his mouth, hoping that something smart or at the very least logical might come out of it, but instead, he gaped not unlike a fish.

She smiled and it reminded him of a child that has just discovered something sweet. He wanted to investigate that smile more, try to read the look in her eyes, but his attention was drawn away, scattered amongst too many sensory experiences and he couldn't focus on just one long enough to figure anything out. Her fingers ran along his temple and before he could even wonder what he felt about it, they were gone and she had stepped away from him just enough so that he could exhale without touching her, but when he tried, it was only to realize he couldn't find any air…he felt as if he were stuck in a crowded room with too many people and not enough air so that he was sweating and didn't know how to get out…wasn't sure he wanted to get out.

"Why…" her voice came, sweet and soft, barely intrusive except for the way it wrought a reaction out of him, "…you're sweating even more now."

He knew she was expecting a response, but he couldn't think of one that would get him out of this mess. "I'm…" he tried, having to clear his throat before he could continue, "…hot."

She rose a brow and for a second, there was just a glimpse of the sardonic smile that went for glib on the face of the Raven he knew and was familiar with, but in a heartbeat, it was gone, leaving only an achingly childlike, trusting, and altogether saccharine twist to her lips and an innocent mischievous shine to her eyes that left him blinking and wondering just what he was on that might make him dream of such things.

"Well, that's easy to solve," she said easily. She stood just a little bit further away from him and he realized he was leaning toward her as she did. He forcefully planted his feet on the ground and straightened himself to look at her as she motioned the pool. "Just take a swim with me," she said. "The water's cool and it'll feel great if you're hot."

"I…" his first instinct was to agree, but he knew that if it was his first instinct, he should not give in to it…he couldn't trust his instincts at the moment, and he somehow knew that. "…can't."

She cocked her head to the side, "Why not?"

He hadn't expected her to ask. The Raven he was familiar with wouldn't have. So, what made her so different? He was so shocked at seeing her this way, he had forgotten to wonder at why she was acting this way at all. Raven had somehow turned the tables so that the hunter had become the prey. And what was more, he _knew_ he shouldn't, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of one single reason why he _couldn't_. Why couldn't he?

Despite his best efforts, his eyes trailed over her body, still moist even though no longer dripping, and still reflecting the light of the moon off her skin like some inner light glowed within her. An inner light he found impossible to keep his eyes off.

She smirked and it drew his eyes, against his wishes, to the fullness of her mouth, "You like my bathing suit?" she asked, and if it were anyone else but Raven, he might say that the tone was teasing, but it was Raven, so…

Robin nodded and couldn't help but take another once over; the suit, or what there was of it, was simple, nothing but black lycra held up by a series of straps and cords and so it wasn't exactly what one might call pretty…but it was certainly…_effective._ He had to physically bite his own cheek to stop from answering, 'What suit?' to her question. Which was about all the restraint he could muster on the matter as he found himself nodded despite himself, "Some suit," he admitted a bit gruffly.

"So are you going for a swim or not?" she prodded.

"No," he answered forcefully, "Can't…" and he glanced quickly away from her pout (_Raven, pouting?)_ to busy himself instead with thoughts of excuses he could give. _'A suit!'_ he thought, nearly leaping in joy at the thought. "I don't have a bathing suit."

She smiled and it was pure honey and invitation, as if he could almost smell the scent and knew that what she promised would taste like heaven.

"I don't mind."

As her words filtered through his mind and the meaning behind them sunk into his consciousness, he flushed straight through to his toes…not at the invitation itself, but at his complete and all consuming desire to accept. He knew the best way to deal with this would be to joke it off, pretend that it didn't affect him, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how to.

He never felt so trapped by his own desires before in his life. A part of his mind was wondering considering the suggestion as not such a bad idea while another part of his mind was flashing red lights and screaming out, 'DANGER! DANGER!' and he didn't know which one to pay attention to.

"Come, Robin," she spoke, "Isn't this what you came for?"

And her words snapped his attention away from every sensory overload he might have been experiencing and right at the fact that she knew. And then it occurred to him what she might think he came for and although he flushed again, there was offense there and a bit of anger and he held onto those, "You think I purposefully wanted to find you in this state of...of..." he faltered.

"Arousal?" she provided casually. When it took him a moment to realize that she had so simply stated something of that nature, she laughed. "Of course I think it's why you're here," she answered simply. "All of us wondered how long it might take you to figure something out...we all knew you wouldn't just come and ask me about it."

"Us?" he blinked in confusion, who had she shared this with?

She chuckled and walked to the table where a glass of something dark and red waited. She tapped her head, "Us..." she took the glass and brought it to her lips, "The other Ravens, as Beast Boy and Cyborg have named them, that live in Nevermore."

He knew about the time Cyborg and Beast Boy entered Raven's mirror and he knew about the havoc they had caused. He also knew that all three of them had undoubtedly become closer since then. For some reason, the reminder of it, brought a frown to his lips. "What's going on, Raven?" he asked, his voice not quite as steady as he would have liked it.

She sighed and his attention was unavoidably drawn to the way her chest rose and fell with breath, "And we knew that if you did, you would be like this."

He wasn't sure he hadn't just been insulted. His frown deepened, "Like what?"

She shook her head and took another sip from the glass, as if she were biding her time to think. Finally, she looked at him and she looked almost sad..._almost _disappointed. "It doesn't matter." She lowered the glass and smiled kindly at him, "You're right," she told him, "Perhaps it is best if you go." She turned around and padded back toward the pool.

"What?" he was getting dizzy from all the mood swings.

"You're asking too many questions," she announced as she walked around the edge of the water, clearly heading for the deep end on the other side of where they had been standing, "And if you're not going to help, you might as well just go and let me deal with this on my own."

"I'm confused," he admitted.

She turned her upper body to look at him and sighed, "And I'm sorry," she said sincerely, shrugging. "But tonight is not the night to ask questions..." she stepped up to the edge, "Ask me tomorrow," she said and executed a perfect dive into the deep end of the pool, cutting fluidly across, under the water's surface from one end to the other of the pool before having to surface for air.

He was at the edge, waiting for her and when she surfaced, she pushed back her hair and, blinking water out of her eyes, looked at him. "Help how?" he asked.

She smiled that predatory smile again and he felt a tug deep inside him in response, a milder version of the fight or flee response. "Are you certain you want to ask that?" she asked, floating to the edge, still looking up at him. "I won't give you the chance to go again," she warned.

He thought about it for all of two seconds, then nodded. "Help how?" he repeated.

She smiled, "Well, first..." she said, and reached out a hand out of the water for him to take and when he did, she let him pull her halfway out of the pool before bracing her feet on the edge and pulling back down into the water, making him lose his balance and fall head first into the water.

He came up sputtering for air and trying to see around the hair that had plastered before his eyes. He pushed the hair out of his eyes and turned around looking for her, only to find that she was right behind him. Before he could utter two words to her, however, she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him backwards through the water. He was so surprised, he didn't think about resisting until his back hit the concrete of the edge.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, surprised.

Her hands had found the clasp of his cape and she unclipped it, throwing it unconcernedly over the edge of the pool so that it landed with an undignified plop somewhere on the concrete.

Her hands were everywhere, and they turned in the water with the momentum of her touch, her exploration of him. Somehow, she managed to remove first one glove, then the other, and they too were tossed with uncaring force to land outside the pool. Before he could comment or even think of what was happening, her mouth decided to taste the newly exposed flesh of his fingers. His knees buckled as her warm, hot mouth took in his index finger and her tongue seemed to lap at it as if licking at an ice cream cone. Her eyes rolled up to look at him and she smiled predatorily.

She knew exactly what she was doing to him.

She slowly drew her mouth back away from his finger and placed a soft, tender kiss on the tip. Her eyes still on him, she pushed against him to gain enough leverage to pull herself up and pressed her lips against his chin, working her way up until she had captured his lips again.

A part of him thought he should try to get her to stop, but he didn't know how. He didn't know which side was up, didn't even think of how to stop her until her hands found the edge of his uniform's top and he felt her cool hands on the flesh of his stomach under the water.

"Raven!" he exclaimed, reaching for her hands and holding them in place. "For gods' sakes, stop."

She stopped and looked at him, "I'm only getting you out of your wet clothes, Boy Wonder," she said dryly, "I'm not going to take advantage of you."

"Why?" he managed.

Her expression turned teasing, "You want me to take advantage of you?" she asked innocently, starting to try to move her hands out of his grasp.

"No," he held onto her hands, "Why are you doing this?"

She relaxed in his hold and allowed the water to push her against him, "Why is a question and I told you tomorrow was for questions," she reminded him, her hands slipping from his and although letting go of the edge of his uniform, they turned instead to the flat skin of his stomach her questing hands had revealed.

He inhaled sharply as her hands seemed to want to investigate every bump and plane of his skin. Somehow, he managed to take hold of her hands again, and although he didn't push them away, he did still them enough for him to look at her, "Tomorrow might also be for regrets," he said.

She smiled and it was the innocent smile again, "No regrets," she said sincerely. "Not with you."

"Are you...?" he trailed off, trying to find answers in her eyes for questions she wouldn't let him ask.

She smiled softly and her hands relaxed under his and she pulled them away, lifting her right hand to his cheek, "Every full moon my powers wane," she said seriously, "So that I may find a mate..." she finished, realizing that she must explain at least something before he would accept what she was offering. "I am still me, only without powers and feeling an incredible urge to copulate," she turned away from him, "I do not become mindless, willing to fuck the first guy that comes around," she said bluntly, "But it does become harder for me to hide my emotions the way I normally would because I don't have any of my other abilities to aid me." She looked up at the moon, still high in the sky. "I didn't think anyone would be here so I let the emotions run free," she explained. "I can sate lust with other types of physical sensations sometimes," she sighed, "And sometimes that's enough, so I do things that please me in a sensory way..." she let her hands trail in the water, "This is quite pleasurable," she admitted. "So is the breeze on the moist skin...all these things...all these _tricks_..." she trailed off and sighed and turned back to him, "But when a man is attracted to me, it becomes harder to control myself," she continued, "It is as if his lust feeds mine..." she met his eyes and made sure he could see the seriousness there, "It is why I avoid the rest of you once a month," she answered his unasked question, "It is why last month, I could have very easily taken you on the med lab bed," she admitted and there was absolutely no embarrassment in her tone, just plain fact and lust in her eyes. "And you..." she approached him slowly, letting him see the emotion in her eyes and leaving no doubt as to its nature, "You sought _me_ out this night," she approached even close, and stopped just shy of touching him, "I will not have regrets, because even despite the urge, I can _always_ stop if I wish it," she smiled. She approached him a little, not touching him, but watching him very closely, "But...I don't _want_ to stop, Robin..." she spoke, her voice low, seductive in its intimacy. "Do you?" She exhaled and looked into his eyes, "Would you have regrets tomorrow?"

There were many things that he knew he should be considering. Many other things that he knew he'd have to face in the morning, but if she truly wanted this, then he couldn't think of a single one that was enough to make him want to stop.

"No," he answered, moments before closing the distance between them and crushing her mouth against his.

Movement in the water was easy and before either of them really knew it, he had turned them around and was pushing her against the wall of the pool, lifting her just that much above the water so that he could get closer to her, feel more of her. Her arms reached around his neck and crossed there, her hands delving into his wet hair, and her legs crossed at his back, so that only his arms, the buoyancy of the water and the wall behind them kept her from falling beneath the surface. And all the while, he sought out ways to get closer to her, to take in more of her, to feel more.

He was no stranger to kissing, but he had never hungered for another's mouth as much as he did then. Every taste he got left only more desire in its wake. He could taste the wine she had been drinking lingering on her tongue and he could smell the chlorine of the pool on her skin, but underneath it all was the taste that he somehow knew would only ever be Raven and the smell he knew only as Raven's. And when finally, he had to release her to breathe, he didn't let her think but took in the necessary air and bent his face to hers once again, sidestepping the sweet fruit of her mouth to better complete the tasting of her. He nibbled at her neck, and sucked in the rapid beat of her pulse in his mouth before continuing his exploration further south.

His hands had found her hips and it was all too easy to lift her up higher in the water, exposing more of her skin to his lips. She was so deliciously wet already, the goosebumps raising as he exposed her skin to the cool air above the water. She tried to bring him close to her again, but he resisted, giving in to a wicked thought.

He watched as her nipple hardened under the black lycra of the bikini when he blew on it and he thrilled at the ability to make her react by such a simple act. She gasped as he repeated the process on her other breast and gave in to the temptation to caress it with his thumb. As he let his thumb graze both her nipples, her gasp turned into a soft moan and her heels dug into his ass, urging him closer.

When he didn't seem in any particular rush, Raven's hands in his hair tightened and she took a fist full of his hair, pulling back enough so that he raised his face to her with a grimace, "Don't get them all excited if all you're going to do is watch," she warned, her voice full of need before she bent her head down to capture his lips, invading his mouth and fighting his own tongue for dominance of the kiss.

The demand of her mouth caused him to lose his balance and she managed to push him back away from the wall and submerging them both into the water. And all the while, the kiss continued.

When Robin managed to find his feet on the concrete ground, and lifted them up, breaking the kiss for air, Raven had once again found the seam of his uniform top and was pulling it up out of the water. "It's no fair if you're the only one with access," she purred lifting his arms up over his head and pulling the wet top with it. Once again, she tossed it over her shoulder and it landed somewhere near the cape, although he was too busy to really notice where.

Her hands were back on his skin before he could gather his thoughts and with a wicked grin of her own, Raven stopped as her fingers grazed his own nipples. She caressed them exploratorily and leaned in close to him, "Ah...this is more like it," she said seductively in his ear when he reacted.

Robin gasped at the sensations that ran through his whole body as, while she pinched them thought it might be a good idea to take his earlobe into her mouth. The combination nearly undid him and although his knees buckled just a bit, and his arms wrapped tight around her to hold on, they didn't dunk under the water again.

And her hands...her hands continued their soft, pleasurable torture as they traced up his arms and to the sides of his face. For just a moment, her fingers playing with the edge of the black microfiber protecting his eyes, she paused and pulled back. Her fingers splayed on the fabric and he closed his eyes, waiting for her to remove it.

He felt her lean against him, "I want to see your eyes," she whispered breathlessly, her breath tickling the inside of his ear. "Will you show them to me?"

Her hands were still on the mask, but they were feeling the material of it, and not pulling at it at all, not messing with it and not anywhere near to removing it. He was surprised by the emotion her request raised. Not at what he would answer, but at the fact that she would ask, even in their current situation. He had made no move to stop her, she could have easily removed it before he would have noticed and with the state of his body there was no way he would have minded. But she asked.

He opened his eyes and stared at her, bringing his hands up slowly to press against hers, still over the fabric of the mask. The emotion in her eyes shifted, but she waited.

He took her fingers, leading them to press at the hem of the mask, and when he had placed it there, he used her own hands to pull the wet, clingy fabric off his face. Her hands remained on the now bare skin surrounding his eyes and her eyes were so transfixed on his that he couldn't help but smile as he threw off the mask, uncaring where it landed.

She smiled at him and it was that smile that warmed every part of him, from the inside out. She looked into his eyes and saw the emotion in them, the desire and the need and the way he felt about her smile and before he knew it, he was smiling too. Her hands were still at the sides of his face and she used them as leverage to lean into him. When he thought she would kiss him again, she surprised him by placing a gentle kiss on his eyelids.

It was all he could do to keep still and when it seemed she would go somewhere other than his lips again, he reached up and pulled her close enough so that he could claim her kiss again.

When they broke the kiss for air, it was to find that they were somehow in the middle of the pool. Thankfully, he was tall enough to be able to stand on the cement bottom, and could stand still enough to allow himself some exploration. It was his turn, after all.

His fingers found and tangled in the lycra strings he knew held her bottom together, and although he teased at the knots and found the flesh underneath, he didn't pull. Instead, he distracted her from rushing him by tasting her lips, nipping at her lobe, licking her neck...

He groaned in response when she pressed herself against him and he could feel her breasts straining against his bare chest, when her hands tangled in his hair and pressed his lips onto hers again, but he wouldn't hasten his pace. He would take this slowly, he would savor every moment of the experience the way he savored the taste of her skin. He could feel her need and her desire and it made him swell with need, made him press just a little against her in response, tug a little harder at the ties of her bikini, and shake a little with repressed want but he wouldn't let her rush him. He wasn't in a hurry...

After all, they had all night.

_xxxxxxxx_

By the time the morning light finally woke him from sleep, it had crawled far enough passed his drapes to lighten up his entire room. He woke up drowsy and exhausted, warm and perfectly willing to ignore the light and continue dozing right where he was. So, figuring he had at least an hour or two before the others woke up, he snuggled back down under the covers, digging his face against the warmth of the cozy, soft pillow that smelled amazingly like Raven.

Contrary to popular belief, Robin wasn't necessarily a morning person and so it took him a bit of time (despite the fact that his hands had found an incredibly comfortable rest against a sleep warmed patch of skin) to realize that he was not alone in his bed.

But, he wasn't stupid, and he wasn't about to move. He did, however, open his eyes. Everywhere in his vision was sun kissed purple. He inhaled deeply and moved his head just a little, verifying that was he was seeing was in fact, Raven's hair splayed over his left arm and under his cheek. His eyes followed strands of hair to pale nape of neck to half-exposed shoulder as the white shirt she was wearing had gaped open and was pinned under his arm as it lay around her waist.

Everything that had happened the night before flooded his consciousness and suddenly, the comfortable, contented lethargy made perfect sense. His instinct was to press her tighter against him and go back to sleep, they deserved it after the night they had, but he stopped himself. What if she would feel regret? Should he try to get her out of his room? Would she pretend none of it happened? Would she want to? Would he let her?

She moved, shifting under his arm and before he could decide if to let her go or not, she decided for him by pressing closer against him, her back arching against his chest, her butt pressing against him as if seeking his warmth and her face facing the pillow as if trying to hide from the sun as her hands sought out his hand which lay flat against the plane of her stomach and brought it between her hands up to cuddle it under her chin.

He couldn't help but smile at the warmth of 'rightness' that flooded him. She looked so cute...almost like a baby cat.

He wondered how long it would take her to realize where she was and what she was doing. He wondered, against his will, whether he should wake her up? At least that way she wouldn't be able to claim that he had tried to take advantage of the situation afterward. But if he wanted to wake her up, how should he?

"Shh..." she mumbled, under her breath, snuggling her face closer against his arm. She exhaled and her breath ticked the inside of his arm where her cheek was pressed, "You think too much too early in the morning," she said her voice thick with sleep.

He was floored. Was she awake? "Raven?" he asked, raising with a little bit of trouble onto his arm to try to look at her. "Are you awake?"

"I am now," she answered, her eyes still closed. She let go of his hand and he brought it up to gently pull the hair that had fallen across her face. She blinked up at him and stretched, turning onto her back as her whole body elongated, giving him ample time to view how her pale skin shone in the sun in the areas where the white shirt...gaped at her cleavage and his sheets fell around her waist.

"You were reading my thoughts?" he asked when she finished her luxurious stretch and settled back against the pillow, staring calmly at him.

"Couldn't exactly help it," she said, her voice still slightly hoarse from sleep, "You were projecting too hard and my guard was down because I was asleep," she explained.

He picked up on her reference to her abilities. He knew she hadn't had them the night before. "Your powers are back?" he asked.

She nodded, extending an arm so that the ray of light she had been hiding from could wash across it. She seemed to contemplate the light and the warmth for a few moments before nodding, "They are."

"Oh," he replied. "Then I'm sorry I woke you up."

She looked back at him and cocked her head to the side, as if to better inspect him while keeping her head on the pillow. "Why is that?" she asked.

She looked, he realized, almost comfortable in his bed, as if she belonged there and had been there every day all of her life. As if it were _her_ bed. To be specific, she didn't look surprised to be in his bed. She didn't appear to be mad or embarrassed and most importantly, not in the least remorseful. When realization of at least that fact filtering through his sleepy and sluggish brain, he grinned at her. He rested his elbow on his pillow and leaned on his side to watch her, "I wouldn't have minded watching you sleep for a little while longer."

She smiled languidly and turned toward him, lifting the covers over her shoulder and resting her face on the pillow, "I can accommodate that," she said softly closing her eyes.

He raised his hand to gently push her hair away from her face and she smiled sleepily. "I thought as soon as the sun came out, everything would go back to normal," he said softly, letting his hand run through her hair rhythmically.

"Depends on your definition of normal," she said, eyes still closed, her voice completely relaxed.

"Well, I thought normal meant I wouldn't be able to do this," he said, trailing his hand gently through her hair, over her cheek and back again.

"No," she said, her voice a little breathy, "That's good," she said, eyes still closed, face still serene, "You can keep doing that all you like."

He chuckled that deep, knowing way that meant he knew exactly what it was doing to her, "So, what does normal mean then?" he prompted, letting his gentle caress find new areas of exposed skin to explore, first forehead and eyelids, then nose and lips, chin and neck, then shoulder and back to the beginning, all the while Raven's eyes remained closed.

"Well," she said softly, "We can't let things get weird for the others," she said, moving just a little to allow him access to more of her neck. His hand trailed over the spot that was just slightly bruised, the mark of where he had become enthralled with feeling her pulse inside his mouth, as if he could swallow her and he knew she'd have hell trying to cover that up. And the surprising thing was he was glad.

"Agreed," he said steadily, "But does that mean we won't tell them about what happened?"

"That's up for discussion when we're not so..." she swallowed, "...sleep deprived, I think."

He chuckled again and let his fingers play with the edge of the t-shirt just above her breasts, just barely letting the pads of his fingers graze the flesh there. "Okay," he conceded. "And?"

"And..." she trailed off, holding her breath as his hand decided where else to go. Exhaling when he followed the line of her collarbone back to her chin, she continued, "Otherwise, we deal with this maturely," she said, her breath hitching just a little as his fingers grazed her lips. When they moved on to her cheeks, "and we don't let it interfere with our responsibilities to Jump," she finished on an exhale.

"Does that mean we can't..." his hand was back by the cleavage of the t-shirt, "...reprise last night except once every full moon?" he finished, smiling at the reaction of her skin as she anticipated where he was going to go next.

She smiled, "Not _everything_ we did last night, no," she answered. His hand stopped as she shifted and he felt her warm hand trail in much the same way as his had up the front of his stomach, traveling up from his stomach to his abs and before they could reach the sensitive spot she had found the night before, he stopped her. Her eyes opened as he took her hand and pulled it away. He was looking at her with a playful kind of warning in his expression, "Ah, ah..." he leaned forward and used her hand as leverage to push her onto her back on the mattress, pressing both her hands onto the mattress on either side of her face, "So," he said, conversationally, shifting until he was leaning across her to look down at her. "Not _everything_ from last night?" he asked.

"Not if we don't want to bring the Tower down around us, no," she answered, humor and something else in her eyes.

"But _some _of the other stuff is okay on a regular basis?" he asked, his thumbs tracing circles around her inner wrists, his fingers entwining with hers, his eyes taking in every inch of her form as the white t-shirt pressed taught against the mounds of her chest, offering him the barest hint of secrets under him.

She chuckled, "Regular basis, huh?" she asked. "Well..."

He leaned down until his lips were inches from hers and when she caught her breath in expectation, he swooped down and lightly teased them before pulling away, "Yes or no?" he asked, his voice no longer casual but husky and deep.

The look in her eyes shifted, "Yes," she said, "I do have some restraint on my powers on a regular basis."

He smiled and, keeping her hands pressed into the mattress at her sides, he sat up, and swung one leg so that his knees were on either side of her. He leaned down to kiss the the corner of her mouth, "So, _what_ can we do, then?" he asked, his words interspersed by small, butterfly kisses along her chin, her cheek, her eyelids, her forehead, everywhere but her mouth.

"I don't know," she breathed.

"I guess we'll have to do a little experimenting, then, won't we?" he asked, once again bypassing her lips and kissing her neck close to her earlobe.

She frowned and he grinned.

She waited until he bent down to kiss another part of her and lifted just enough off the mattress to catch his neck in her mouth, letting her teeth nip at him. He started and looked at her in surprise. She took the chance that his weight eased up off her hands to flip them over so that she was straddling his hips, pressing her body against him and keeping his hands down on the mattress.

Her look was steady and serious, but her eyes gleamed in expectancy and mischief, "If you're going to tease...I'm going to bite."

He grinned and his blue eyes twinkled in the sun light, "Well, that's certainly a place to start."

_xxxxxxxx_

Later, much later, Robin had to restrain himself from laughing when Cyborg walked into the common room with a pair of soggy steel tipped boots, "Robin?" he asked, holding them by the laces, "What were your boots doing in the pool?"

And only Robin's quick reflexes managed to save Raven's mug from crashing on the floor.

_xxxxxxxxx_

**A/N:** All of you have **_MsLessa_** to thank that this got posted, just so you know. She was soooo good about serving as plot beta since Puck abandoned my happy ass about halfway through. Or maybe it was because I got to feeling so self conscious about the smut factor of this that Puck just got tired of trying to inspire me? I think that was it, because once MsLessa started talking with me about it and assured me it wasn't as cliched sounding as I feared, I was back and running with inspiration as to how to finish it. So, everyone thank MsLessa if you enjoyed it.

She also pointed out something VERY important in this fic that I missed completely. If you can find what it is, you'll get a cookie! (And if you ask nicely, you might get a preview of what's coming) Anyway, what she pointed out thrust this continuation which was just going to be a one-shot continuation of the first one into a a multi-chaptered fic. So YES, this is now going to continue. I know where I want to take it, don't know where it's going to end but I have a feeling...a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling which means I like the idea very much and it'll probably end up that way. I did a WHOLE bunch of plot work with MsLessa on this and like i said, if it wouldn't have been for her, I probably wouldn't even have noticed that possible aspect of what I mentioend that could extend this to a much longer fic! So, **_YAY MsLessa_**!

I will warn you though, I don't have the next part of how I'm going to continue it written, so it'll probably be a little bit before it gets posted. There's other stuff I want to work on, so I probably won't sit down and prod Puck to give me the next installment of this for a little bit. But, who knows? Puck's flighty and might just decide to latch onto this idea and finish it within the week...eheh...

So...should I tell you what the next part is going to be about? Well, you know, I don't think I will...

I think what I'll do is post it in my emsscraps journal in a few days. (evil grin)

But if you can guess correctly what part of what happens in this fic leaves the story open to continuation, I'll share with you a preview of what's coming, if you want it that is.

**Thanks:** I'm actually not going to go back to the reviews for Part 1 of _Instinct_ just cause there's too many of them for me to reply to right now. But I do want to thank everyone who reviewed and especially to those who didn't lose faith that I'd continue it and placed it on your watch and alert lists. Of course, a special HUGE thanks to **MsLessa**.


	2. A Mistake

**A/N:** I figured out how to approach the continuation of this! Yey! This is short and might even be a kind of intro to the continuation of the story. I'm posting it up cause I've got no time to continue the rest of it right now, and I'm leaving out of town for the weekend (DisneyWorld, here I come! Woot!) and between last minute plans, etc, I won't have any time to do anything else with this story before next week, and frankly, I think it's become kind of like my own persona tradition to post _something_ before I go away from communication with the internet for any length of time. So, hope you guys enjoy it!

_Disclaimers, etc at the end..._

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_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
**__**2: A Mistake  
**__**by Emania**_

"_We must not say every mistake is a foolish one."  
__- _Cicero

She didn't realize her grievous error the moment the sun rose that morning. In her defense, waking up in Robin's arms was not as disconcerting as she thought it might have been. On the contrary, it was warm and welcoming and she fit so easily, completely, and totally comfortably in the bend of his arms that rather than waking up in shock or some version of denial or guilt over their changed relationship, she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and drift in that wondrously cozy state of half asleep and half awake where the fuzzy edges were still around anything she looked at.

His soft breath ruffled her hair and tickled the back of her neck. The soft weight of his arms was more comforting than uncomfortable and the steady rhythm of his heart against her naked back was soothing. She _knew_ she should have been embarrassed over what they had done the night before. Or, at the very least, worried over what damage her irresponsible surrender to her baser instincts might have done to their tenuous relationship. She knew she should. But it was hard to fight the lethargy that had settled over her limbs and even her eyelids while she was enmeshed in Robin's scent all around her.

She didn't regret what had happened, she knew that. She didn't even have to explore her feelings to see if there was any hint of regret. She hadn't lied the night before, she would never regret it. But she thought that perhaps she should be worried about what consequences her lapse might bring down upon their heads. There were so many things to consider.

She felt it the moment consciousness hit him and he was projecting so hard she got clear reception into his thoughts. She knew, with a certainty that startled her, that she could not allow him to think she regretted one moment of their actions. She knew if she even let him see how worried she was about what it might do to their friendship or the team as a whole, that he'd mistake that wariness for regret and she knew he'd be beating himself up, blaming himself, thinking that he should have been the gentleman, that she wasn't in her right head and whatever other blame he could put on those well toned muscular shoulders of his. She couldn't allow that.

Her thoughts, then, were expectedly drawn to making it through that veritable minefield of possibly guilt inducing words and actions to assure that their friendship remained in tact and balancing how much of her own pleasure in being in his arms she should allow herself to show and how much she could show.

How was she supposed to know he'd be so incredibly receptive to her clumsy assurances? That he would be so completely willing to show her how accepting he was of this new facet to their friendship?

Understandably, it wasn't until later that day that the enormity of her mistake hit her.

Later, she couldn't say what train of thought led her into such a collision course with reality, only that when it did hit, she could do naught but stand under the hot spray of the shower, blinking out the water of her eyes, her only movement being the unconscious press of her hand against her bare abdomen.

It wasn't until much, much later, after the water had gone cold and she shivered under its icy fingers that she came out of her shock enough for one very pressing thought to become incomparably clear:

_'Robin's going to figure this out. Soon.'_

"Shit," she spoke, her voice a hoarse whisper, barely audible above the roar of the water hitting the tiles around her.

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x_

**A/N:** Hardly anyone tried to guess what it was that I didn't realize I had done that allowed me to extend this story into a larger one. But this short introduction to the continuation of the story (It would be a "Prologue" if not for the fact there's already a first chapter...Eheh...) should clear up what I meant. (Or at least, give you another hint...)

Not beta'd. (Anyone wanna take up some of the beta slack? All my usual betas are really busy and I don't want to bother them with minor stuff...I could use a good grammar beta...someone to point out inconsistencies, etc.)

**Disclaimer:** Blah, blah, no money being made, no claim to ownership, and as Jurodan would say, I am making use of the Fair Use Clause to US Copyright Laws...((goes off mumbling...))

**_Thanks:_** On my emsscraps journal at the same time as this goes up.

**_P.S._**: Sorry to disappoint that there wasn't any more _smut_ in this one...I figured it needed this kind of little interlude...one might even call this one a bit of a _teaser_...if one were so inclined...I was just so darn happy to figure out how this was going to go, I had to share! ((goofyGRIN))


	3. Knowing

**EDIT:** _(May 1, 2006)_ Just changed two lines total in the whole thing. One that had been bothering me and I made it flow a little better, I think and the other something that I didn't realize made no sense until I re-read it after it had been posted and then because I was lazy, I hoped no one would notice. Course, we wouldn't be fanfic fans if we weren't anal about our fandoms, and _someone_ noticed. (Thanks, **_Simply Myself_** for pointing that out...) So that was fixed too. Enjoy. (And I hope this doesn't alert everyone or I'll be attacked with pitchforks and sticks for sure if everyone thinks it's a new chapter and it isn't...:frown: )

**A/N**: So, I didn't mean for this one to come out just yet. I had been trying to work on the next installment of _It Only Takes A Moment_, but I started reading a previous version I had for this chapter that I wrote a couple of weeks ago, and I realized it was all wrong, all the wrong pov anyway, so I sudden heard Robin's voice and ta-da! This was born. I'm still trying with the next moment and I can tell you, I've pretty much gone hard headed and decided it's going to be _Cy's Say_ if it kills me. (Title, as always, subject to change.) So, look for that sometime...eh...soon?

**Disclaimer:** _Blah, blah_: Characters portrayed are not mine. _Blahdibie-blah_, no money made from the production or posting of this fic, _blah-blah-blah..._

_xxxxxxxxxxx_

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
**__**Chapter 3: Knowing**_

"_I know you'll catch me..."  
_- Fall In The Light, Lori Carson

The two weeks after the full moon were hell.

From one moment to the next, they had been hit with wave after wave of crime of all sorts: the super villainous kind and the petty thievery kind intermingled to make for two weeks of consistent, near exhausting work.

And throughout it all, Robin and Raven were either too tired or too busy to speak, much less to do anything together more enterprising than look at each other.

He still wanted her. Hell, every moment that wasn't occupied with missions or villains was full of her. But considering those moments were confined to the few seconds before he gave in to an exhausted sleep, there was nothing he could do about it, except dream about her.

And he knew she wanted him too. It was there in the surprised looks when they chanced to touch, as if there were a live electrical wire running between them that shocked them both whenever her skin came across his.

For two weeks, he dreamt about her, knowing that there were many questions he needed to ask her, many things they promised to talk about, and that they would as soon as he had sated that damn need to feel her pressed against him.

For two weeks, he glanced at her and knew she was remembering the same night he was.

For those grueling two weeks, the one thing that kept his spirits up was knowing that when rest came, and it always did, he'd be able to take it locked in her embrace. Some part of him flinched at that thought. Because he knew that this thing between him and Raven was based on need and desire and partly on convenience. They were good together. But even while he told himself that night that it was just about the sex, he knew it wasn't. He knew it was about how she helped fill another need inside him altogether separate from the physical. He wouldn't crave her scent so damn badly if it were just about the sex, would he? And _that_ was what scared the hell out of him. That was what made that small little part in his head flinch and want to stop and analyze and worry the thing to death until he knew each and every feeling associated with it as intimately as he had learned the planes of Raven's body.

But he didn't have the time to do that, did he?

He had villains to fight and people to assure and reports to file and Titans to train.

He didn't treat her any different than he normally did and he was minimally proud of that. Of course, the only reason he didn't treat her any different was because he had _always_ been watchful and protective of her, hadn't he? In the many, many battles that came during those arduous two weeks, he was only as conscious of her as he had ever been and when he grappled his way across several buildings to catch her when she was flicked away from Plasmus as if she were no more than a pesky fly, no one thought anything about it because it was something he would _always_ do. And no one saw the brief flicker of emotion in her eyes when she came to in his arms anyway.

No one saw her hand trail across his arm as she stood and no one heard the emotion in her brief, "Thanks" as she flew back into the fight. And no one could've interpreted the smile on his face even if they had seen it, which they didn't, of course.

At the beginning of the third week, however, everything changed.

For starters, they'd gotten to bed the night before at a relatively decent hour and their dreams hadn't been interrupted by the blaring of their alarm. They had woken up to a quiet Tower, too, and there were no urgent messages pressing for their attention, no calls for immediate response...the city was finally quiet and drowsy and giving them a reprieve.

Raven had walked in on Robin as he sat at the Titan Computer, checking for disturbances, with a coffee cup in one hand. She couldn't see his eyes, but she knew, instinctively, that like the rest of them, he had slept well for the first time since the crime spree had started.

"Looks like it's over..." Robin announced as she walked behind him into the kitchen.

"For now," she conceded, pouring hot water from the kettle into a mug for her tea.

Turning from the computer, Robin watched her approach and fought back the impulsive desire to reach out for her. It was very difficult, but if he touched her, he knew the last thing on his mind would be talking or questions he knew had to be answered. And thanks to his full night of sleep, he'd finally had more than a fleeting few seconds to consider what had happened between him and Raven. He hadn't figured it all out, but he had come up with some very serious questions he would like answered. Not that her answers would prevent him from wanting to continue their explorations of the limits and extents of her control, but he had the feeling there was something very important he was missing. So, he met her gaze and waited until she had taken her first sip of tea before he spoke,"We need to talk."

She nodded, slowly. There was something that flashed across her eyes, something that might've been fear or uncertainty and maybe even protectiveness, but it was gone too quickly for him to tell for sure. "Yes, I suppose we do," she conceded, and if Raven would've done emotions, he might be tempted to believe there was an edge of sadness there.

He frowned, "Do you regret..." he started, but she didn't let him finish.

"No," she said succinctly. She took a moment to think about it, and he waited, knowing instinctively something else was coming. He waited to hear the 'but', and was surprised when she didn't start that way at all. "No matter what happens, I won't ever regret it," she finished, sipping from her cup as if to keep herself from saying anything more. Above the rim of the mug, she watched him, waiting.

"I don't either," he agreed, offering her a slight smile. "The truth is, we've been so busy these passed weeks, I haven't barely had a time to think about it, but..." he glanced at her, "I have a lot of questions about..." he trailed off, unsure how to continue. She raised a brow, plainly surprised. "...the situation, I guess."

She looked almost relieved. She walked to the sofas and sat down. "So, ask," she said simply, curling her legs under her on the green cushions.

He didn't know exactly what his first question would be, it wasn't everyday that Raven was so open to answering his questions, but he opened his mouth anyway, knowing that one of the many he had pondered in the rare moments he'd had to think about something other than work would come to him.

Unfortunately, his intention was drowned out by the loud blare of their alarm and both of them were instantly on alert.

"Shit," he said with feeling, turning back to the computer.

"So much for rest," Raven intoned as she walked to stand at his elbow, watching the screen for information.

Within moments, they knew that Johnny Rancid had attacked the local Diamond Exchange and the common room was flooded by the presence of their fellow Titans. Less than ten minutes later, they were out of the Tower, and racing toward another battle.

Some part of Robin, however, was still focused on the conversation he and Raven _almost_ had, and so it was understandable that when Rancid's pet robot dog caught Raven's cloak in his massive incisors and shook, something inside Robin snapped, and by the time the dog had tossed Raven hurtling toward the brick building behind her, everything had come crashing into perfect clarity around him. He knew that she was going too fast to stop herself from hitting the building, he knew none of them were close enough to help her and he knew she was too disoriented from the rough shaking the dog had given her to help herself. But most importantly, with the startling clarity of an epiphany, he didn't even need to see the fear in her eyes or the way she frantically curled herself into a fetal position in a desperate attempt to take the blunt of the hit to her body on her back to realize the what the _something_ he had felt he was missing all these weeks might've been.

He reached her in time to stop her from hitting the ground, but by that time, he didn't need to see the look in her eyes for him to realize that despite her attempts to protect it, the force of that blow just might have killed the baby she _might_ have been carrying.

_xxxxxxxxx_

**A/N:** Dum-dum-_duuuummmmmm!_ The plot _thickens,_ eh, mes amies? (Why did I just sound like Pepe Le Pieu in my head:shrugs:) Remember to review! It's your reviews that has kept this story going so far.

**Thanks**: As always, up on the emsscraps journal. If you ask a question or something in your review, be sure to check out my responses cause I always answer any question I'm asked. (Unless I kinda get lost in my own tangents and I don't realize I've skipped over answering it, but if you remind me, I'll answer it, I promise!)


	4. Truths

**A/N:** I have a feeling this is just chocked full of run-ons, but my brain refuses to pick them up and deal with them. If you see any, be a dear and point them out, yeah? (Also, I don't LOVE the quote I used for this chapter and I don't love the title: I'm open to suggestions.)

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, no money being made, blah, blah, blah...

**Thanks:** Special thanks go to **_MsLessa_** once again, for serving as plot beta and plot sounding board for me. I don't know that this chapter would've been released any time soon if she hadn't conceded to read it for me. Review responses can be found on 'emsscraps' journal (emsscraps . livejournal . com )

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
**__**Chapter 4: Truths **_

"_Love truth, and pardon error."  
_- Voltaire

No one paid much attention to the door as it opened. Both of the people already in the room were rather busy with their own worries, after all. And since the newcomer was rather stealthy and quiet as a matter of course, he went unnoticed for long enough to get the gist of what the, apparently longstanding, argument was about.

"No," she said simply, in the tone of voice that brooked no argument.

"I don't understand why you're balking at this scan now," Cyborg was saying. "You've had it done a million times."

"Firstly, because I have no need of it," she reasoned, "Do I look like I have broken bones or fractures?" she asked and before he could answer, she continued, "And secondly, because if I want to make certain, I can just do it myself," she glanced at the door and then down to her lap, suddenly reserved.

"You yourself have said this is faster and it takes up less of your strength and control, Rae, so why...?" Cyborg's frustrated argument halted as he finally noticed Robin's entry. He rolled his eye at Robin and motioned to Raven with a frustrated wave of his arms, "Maybe you can reason with her," Cyborg told the younger man. "She's being stubborn and refuses to let me scan her."

The expression on Robin's face, or actually, the lack of it, stopped Cyborg from ranting anymore about Raven's stubbornness.

Robin approached the table where Raven was sitting and Cyborg was surprised to find that Raven hadn't acknowledged his presence at all. He frowned.

Robin was pissed, there was no doubt about that. Cyborg knew Robin well enough to pick up on the telltale signs in the tightness of his jaw and the set of his shoulders, even the way he walked. And by the way he approached the table, his eyes on Raven who had still refused to look up from her lap, it sure looked like Robin was pissed at Raven. And that Raven knew it. What Cyborg couldn't figure out, was why. Sure, Raven had gotten hurt, Cyborg reasoned, but she hadn't done anything particularly stupid. She had followed protocol, stuck to the plans, but she got whacked anyway. And no amount of preparation would change that, really. It sucked, but sometimes it happened.

_'Something_,' Cyborg decided, _'is definitely up.'_ Aloud, he hedged, "Uh...Robin?"

"I'll take care of it," Robin announced, his voice wound tight like a cable right before it breaks.

Cyborg knew when he was being dismissed. And truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to leave. Robin rarely, if ever, got this pissed. But whenever he did, everyone knew better than to get in his way. Still, he couldn't just walk out. Although he didn't know what had set Robin off, he knew it couldn't have been Raven, and he'd be damned if he'd let Robin take out whatever had pissed him off on her just cause she was the one that had been caught by Rancid's hunk of junk pet dog.

"Robin, I think I..." Cyborg started, trailing off in surprise when both Robin and Raven looked up at him. He could practically hear the twang as the cord holding Robin's temper in check stretched a little tighter.

"I _said_ I'd handle it," Robin bit out.

"It's alright, Victor," Raven spoke up quietly. Cyborg turned to look at her in surprise. She only ever called him by his real name in moments of complete severity, when she wanted to let him know she was serious.

"Oookay..." Cyborg exhaled. Raven nodded minutely and with a final glance at Robin, which tried to impart the fact that Cyborg would be asking about this incident later, he walked away, wondering just what he had failed to notice that Raven had done wrong.

When they were finally left alone, instead of bridging even more of the distance between them, Robin walked to a console along the side of the med lab. Raven waited. She could, she thought, do a dozen things: try to calm him, try to speak first and decide the tone of the conversation rather than wait for him to do it, she could even leave the med lab altogether, but she wouldn't.

Robin had to use all of his restraint to not pound into the keys the pass code that would disable the med lab security cameras. He could feel her behind him and he knew she still wasn't looking at him. There were so many things running through his mind he didn't even know where to start. He was grateful she hadn't spoken: if she'd spoken, he wouldn't have been able to control his words at all, and he wanted to maintain control over his emotions above all else.

When the screen before him blinked the confirmation that the monitoring had been disabled, he held himself perfectly still for a few moments before turning and walking to stand in front of her. He took the first aid kit Cyborg had been using to treat and bandage her small cuts and scrapes and without looking at her face, he did as he had told Cyborg he would do: continued to mechanically treat her small wounds.

Raven didn't bother to resist when he took hold of her arm and put it into position so he could reach the cut just above her elbow with the antiseptic wipes. His touch was cold and impersonal, nothing like what she remembered and certainly not what she had, as little as two hours ago, anticipated it might be like when he touched her again. She bit back a hiss of pain as the antiseptic stung and still she waited, silently.

She did, however, finally look up at his face. His gaze was focused on the cuts he was cleaning and bandaging. In some part of her mind, she registered surprise at how he was able to locate each of them without asking her to point them out. But he didn't look at her and his expression was as cold and tight as his touch was.

His voice, when it came, was tight and almost as low as a whisper, "Had you planned to tell me at all?"

The tension and anger washed over her nearly making her reel.

She opened her mouth to speak, but had to swallow before any sound came. "There is nothing to tell."

The dead calmness in her tone snapped at a good chunk of his restraint and when he put down the scissors he had used to cut off the bandage on her wrist on the metal tray next to them, he did so with more force than was necessary and the metal clattered noisily in the forced silence between them.

Raven winced almost imperceptibly and had to stop herself from pulling her hand out of his loose hold.

She raised her head and found his gaze right on her. She almost flinched at that, too, but just managed to hold herself back from it. And although her outward expression didn't change as their eyes met, inside she was more than confused. Having to deal with his emotions swirling around him and lapping at her shields would be bad enough even if she didn't have to deal with her own confusion and doubt and guilt and anger.

"Wrong answer," he said through grit teeth.

Raven's own temper snapped, "What would you prefer me to say, Robin?"

He smiled and it was anything but pleasant, "I'd _prefer_ for you to not treat me as if I were a stupid fuck who can't put two and two together..." his grip tightened on her wrist and she winced at the pain, "or better yet, I'd _prefer_ it if you didn't pretend like what happened to you and our baby was none of my business," he growled, his tone all the more dangerous by it's controlled decibel.

"I don't know that there _is_ a baby!" she exclaimed. She wasn't angry, not really, but she didn't know exactly what she was. All she knew was that she couldn't contain her voice from rising, couldn't contain her hands from clutching into tight fists and couldn't stop from glaring at him as if she were trying to decide whether to cry or hit him.

"And you think that's an excuse?" he demanded. "Did you even _consider_ what might have happened to the child you might have been carrying every time you went out blithely into battle?" Even through the mask, Raven could feel the anger in his eyes as he held her gaze trapped. "Or did you just not want to tell me about the possibility so badly that you'd prefer to put the baby in jeopardy?"

"I don't know that there _is_ a baby," she repeated, quieter this time, unable to repress the guilt she had been hiding from or the blame she felt regardless of whether or not she really was carrying a child or never had been at all.

He let her go as if he were disgusted to hold onto her, "Damnit, Raven," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair, "Is that the only excuse you're going to give me?" he asked, his back to her more damning than anything else he could've done.

"What good would it have done?" she asked softly, "If I had told you there was a possibility that I was pregnant," she swallowed, "Would you have really stopped me from fighting?" she asked.

He didn't turn to look at her, "Yes," he answered.

"What excuse would you have given the others?" she asked.

He turned and frowned at her, "Are you saying the only reason you continued fighting all these weeks even thinking you might have been carrying a child is because you didn't want the others to know?" he challenged.

She shook her head, "No," she answered. "I continued fighting because..." she faltered. She knew what she wanted to say: she knew what she had told herself all these weeks every time even a twinge of doubt occurred to her at the blaring of the alarm. She looked over his shoulder at the idle lights of monitors and machines, avoiding the weight of his gaze.

"What...Raven?" he prompted.

She shook her head, "I told myself because the city needed me, I told myself because it was my responsibility and the suspicion that I might have..." her hand went to her abdomen and her fingers splayed against the dark blue of her leotard. She swallowed, "...it wasn't enough to supersede that responsibility..."

He watched her and knew she was coming to some conclusions of her own, so his voice wasn't as harsh as the words he spoke might suggest, "That's not enough."

She half shook her head, half nodded, "I know," she whispered.

"Did you want to kill it?" he asked softly.

Her head whipped up to glare at him, "No!" she snapped. "No one told me anything about this," she admitted on an almost whisper, "No one explained to me anything and that's no excuse, but I'm not perfect and I make mistakes, too," she said, glaring at him as if daring him to contradict her or tell her she didn't have the right to make mistakes. At the look on his face, the anger faded leaving only an emptiness from which truths were born and faced. "I wanted to forget about it," she answered and her voice was as unemotional as she could ever make it. "I couldn't know whether I was pregnant or not until three weeks from the full moon anyway, so I wanted to push it away from my thoughts and forget about it until then." She shook her head, "I didn't want to think about it, do you understand? I didn't want anything to have changed, I..." she trailed off and sighed. "If it..." she stopped herself and visibly swallowed, meeting his eyes, "My decisions to keep it from you were purely selfish and as such had nothing to do with you." She looked at her hands once more, "If I _was_ pregnant and miscarried, it would be no one's fault but my own, I know that."

He was silent for a long while. He didn't know what to say. How would he have acted if she had told him three weeks ago that she might be carrying his child? He couldn't know. Not now, not really. "How long have you suspected?" he asked finally.

"Since the day after the full moon," she answered.

His eyes fell onto the pale expanse of her wrist and the bandages he had put on cuts and scrapes for a few moments before he closed his eyes. "I was so stupid not to have guessed sooner," he admitted, half under his breath.

"There was no reason for it to occur to you," she answered, not like she was trying to make him feel better but like it was a fact.

"What do you do now?" he asked after a few moments.

"In trance, I can tell...in my body," she answered. "I couldn't before..." her voice trailed off and she shook her head as if to focus her thoughts, "It'll take a few moments." She looked at him until he raised his eyes to hers, "You don't have to..."

"I'm not leaving," he said, all uncertainty gone from his voice.

Nodding, she gracefully curled into lotus position and closed her eyes, the last thing she saw before entering her trance being the sight of Robin pulling off his mask.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**A/N:** So, um...don't hate me, k? I'm having WAY too much fun with these cliffies, I know, but honestly, I didn't _mean_ to leave it there, it just sort of worked out that way. I have a mental idea of what I want to happen in the next chapter and I even know how I'm going to start it (which is usually the hardest part of starting a chapter), and what that means is that the next chapter will be posted soon and the BIG question will be answered in that chapter...or at the very least the one after that. ((shaky laugh))

**Special Note:** To those of you who follow my other story, _It Only Takes a Moment_, it might behoove you to check out my emsscraps journal entry for May 23rd. There's some nifty "odds n ends" on there and a link to some sidestories you might enjoy.

Um...I had a feeling there was something else I wanted to say / announce here, but it's slipped my mind at the moment.

OH! Yes, now I remember. This chapter of Instinct 2 had a previous incarnation. It wasn't too changed, but there was a bit of a different feel to the end. Mostly, I just clipped out the parts that didn't work and changed those around. I think what I'll do is post those 'alternate' scenes onto my 'emsscraps' journal as well.

'emsscraps' journal addy is as follows (remove spaces): emsscraps . livejournal . com


	5. Detachment

**A/N:** I must first apologize for the length of time it took me to update this story. Three months is a whole lotta time to be stuck on that cliff I left y'all on with chapter 4, so I humbly and sincerely apologize. My only excuse is that it was not my intention to do so and that I had started working on chapter 5 even before I posted chapter 4. The problem was, that nothing I wrote was _right_ so I kept putting it off and waiting for inspiration to hit and it didn't so I'd try to force it and it still wouldn't be right. I knew exactly what I wanted the chapter to be about, which only made it all the more frustrating. And I lay the blame on that whole lack of inspiration on my Inner!Robin. I don't know what the hell he was doing, but he sure as hell wasn't being forthcoming or cooperative with this fic. That is, until **_GuradianKysra_** finished her "Is Forever Enough?" pic (you can find it here: http / www . deviantart . com / deviation / 38925053 / -- you know the whole deal with the spaces, right?) and when she showed it to me, I just started to write and it came out. I think the picture must have kicked my Inner!Robin in the ass or something, cause really.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, no money being made, blah, blah, blah...

**Thanks:** I have THE best reviewers/fans/readers in the world. I keep being amazed by all of you. Not only are you still with me, but the greater portion of you say things like, "update please, when you can" or "I'm anxiously waiting for your update, but I understand your life..." so thank you guys, for being so understanding. Individual review responses can be found on my 'emsscraps' livejournal. (look on my profile page if you don't have / know the address.

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
**__**Chapter 5: Detachment**_

"_There is no detachment where there is no pain."  
_- Simone Weil

Now that the anger and the frustration and the immediate worry had faded away, the only thing left was a sense of detachment. As if he were looking at Raven floating a good three inches off the medical bay bed through someone else's eyes.

It was the way he felt in dreams or nightmares.

It was the way he felt after his parents had died and he had to sit through funerals, burials and half-hearted police attempts at finding their killers.

Intellectually he knew exactly why he was feeling this way: he didn't _want_ to face what was really going on inside him. He didn't want to face the real reason he had been so angry at her not telling him about the possible pregnancy.

He even knew, deep inside, _why_ he didn't want to explore his feelings on the matter. But, ultimately, Robin was straight forward and honest, especially with himself, and he couldn't hide from the truth of his emotions for very long. After a while, the anger he had felt started to fade away, and with it the sort of cloud he had found himself in since the moment he saw her hit the concrete wall dissipated and slowly, very slowly, his thoughts began to narrow in on a point --

Physically, that point was Raven. His eyes took in every inch of her body as she floated above the bed and he really _saw_ all of it. He saw the way the small scrapes and bruises he had attempted to tend started to fade away and heal as if they had never been at all. He had never really _watched_ her heal herself before, but that was only because she never really healed cuts and scraps unless she was in a healing trance already healing something much bigger. And as he started to focus on the little things about her-- the healing cuts, the steady deep breaths, the slight dip in height her floating did as if in chorus with her breath, the way the unforgiving halogen light reflected off the slight bluish highlights of her hair which was the only thing about her succumbing to gravity, the soft, relaxed way her lips were slightly parted – he couldn't help but start to focus on the other things too.

But slowly, his focus shifted from merely taking in her physical aspect to remembering what she smelled like and how that scent had clung to his sheets until he'd washed them. He remembered how soft her skin had felt under his fingers as he watched that skin heal to perfection seemingly on its own. He remembered the sound of her voice as she'd cried out his name...and while she'd told him she didn't regret what had happened between them.

And with that thought, came all the others. And just like that, every word she had spoken to him from the moment they had given in to the sexual attraction between them replayed itself in his mind, as if it were a record on repeat.

"_No matter what happens, I won't ever regret it..." _(1)

Could he believe her? She must have known even then that there was the possibility that she was with child, even then, when she assured him that she wouldn't regret whatever came. Could he believe that she meant it? That if she was pregnant she wouldn't come to regret their moment of passion?

Everything would change if she was pregnant, he knew that. Regardless of whether or not she carried the baby to term the mere fact of having to decide whether or not she would keep it would invariably change their relationship. Nothing would be the same.

Not their lives, not their futures, not their relationship with each other or any of the other Titans...nothing.

"_...I didn't want anything to have changed..." _(2)

She had admitted to not wanting things to change. He knew, without thinking, that Raven was not someone who liked changed. She liked her routines, the things she was used to: they brought her comfort, he knew that. A baby...

A baby would change everything.

Regardless of whether or not she had it or kept it.

She couldn't want a baby. He knew that, too.

Still, watching her peaceful face as she floated in her trance, he couldn't help but remember the pain in her eyes as she answered that she didn't want to kill the baby. He believed her. He knew that she might not want the baby, but he also knew she wouldn't want to kill it. If she was pregnant, he knew she'd keep it. Even though she probably wouldn't want to be a mother.

And he?

Robin sighed. He was a bastard. A heartless bastard because even sitting here, knowing that she wouldn't want a baby, knowing how it would wreak havoc on their lives and what sort of distress it would put her in...despite knowing all that...

He wanted it.

Oh, he tried to tell himself that his anger at her upon his realization of what she'd done was because she hadn't told him about her suspicions...he tried to tell himself it was anger at her keeping secrets from him, and although that was part of it, it wasn't all.

It wasn't even the biggest part.

The biggest part of his anger had stemmed from the thought that she had cared so little about their possible child that she had put it and herself in danger.

He remembered her words moments ago as they had fought, as he had confronted her with his horrible realization:

"_I don't know that there _is_ a baby!" _(2)

He broke his vigil over Raven's meditating form to lower his face into his hands and exhale, as if he might be able to think more clearly if he weren't looking at her, but it made no difference.

He believed her.

He believed that she wouldn't have purposefully put a child at risk simply to not tell anyone of the possibility and he believed that she hadn't known what else to do. He believed her, and he felt even greater despair and like even more of a bastard because of it. Because her admission to having tried to continue to live her life as if there was nothing different until she knew for certain that there was had been too great a tell as to her inexperience and naiveté than he could ignore. It had been too obvious a tell as to her true desires concerning a possible pregnancy for him to turn away from.

She would not do anything to harm a child of theirs should she become pregnant, he knew that as certainly as he knew the sun would rise tomorrow, but he also knew with a sinking heart, that given the choice, she would not want a child.

Still, despite all logical reasoning to the contrary, he _wanted_ her to have been with child. _His_ child.

His chance to be a father, his chance to have the connection with another human being he hadn't had since the day both his parents had been taken from him. He had never considered how much he missed that connection, how wonderful the notion of being a father seemed to him and how very much he wanted it until the moment it occurred to him that Raven might have been pregnant.

Slowly, he lifted his head out of his hands, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes which he would never let fall and he came to another realization as his sight fell upon the lovely woman floating in peaceful ignorance just a few inches away from him.

He wanted children, yes. He wanted to be a father, yes. But why had he never realized how much he wanted that before?

The answer was simple and came to him with a kind of startling clarity he rarely if ever felt with anything: He wanted more than just children. So much more.

What he wanted, in his heart of hearts, was for his children to have full, cupids bow lips, a delicate perfect nose, gentle tapered hands, and eyes bright like amethysts.

Raven's eyes.

When, as if coming out of a dream Robin blinked and was suddenly staring right into those eyes, it took him a moment to realize that Raven had emerged from her meditation and sat up to stare at him. It took him that long, not just because he was still internally reeling from his own realization, but because once his gaze was caught by Raven's he saw the answer he had been waiting for there in her eyes, even before she spoke.

"You weren't," he asked before she could speak, "or, you aren't _anymore_?"

Raven swallowed but kept her eyes on his, doing her best to lay everything she was feeling bare for him, so he would be able to see the truth of the statement in her eyes. "I never was."

But Robin knew her well enough that he saw more than just her sincerity in her eyes. It was just a flash. Just a quick brush of sadness and loss darkening her eyes as she spoke the words and he knew that not all of her was glad she wasn't pregnant, either.

"I was never pregnant." It was said more to testing the words in the air between them and he could practically see Raven as she searched in the sound of the statement still lingering between them for what she should feel about it all.

They were too young to have children, their lives too complicated, both of them knew that. 'But,' Robin thought, 'that doesn't mean that'll always be the case.'

With the thought, he was finally able to move and before she was completely aware of what was happening, Robin had enfolded her in the circle of his arms and buried his face in her tussled hair. It took her a moment, but eventually, she slipped her arms around his waist to clutch at the fabric of his uniform at his back, resting her cheek against his shoulder where she could _just_ reach if she stood on the tips of her toes or wore high-heeled shoes.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Notes:**

(1) From _Instinct 2: Impulse, Chapter 3_

(2) From _Instinct 2: Impulse, Chapter 4_

**A/N:** So, whaddya think? Disappointed?


	6. Desire

**A/N:** This one wasn't due to come out yet. But that's the thing with this story: when it wants to come out, it does and nothing I can do can stop it. ((shrug)) What can I do? I've been working on the next _It Only Takes a Moment_ and the next _Stupid Cupid_ and the next _Burn_...I've actually got a first draft of _Burn_ and of _Estranged_ done, but I need to look it over again before I can post it. I know where the next chapter of this is going to go and I wanted to wait until I had that chapter before I posted it, but I just thought, "what the hell?" so here it is. I at least know where it's going.

**Disclaimer:** I disclaim it all. (There, is that good enough?)

**Thanks:** Specifics on 'emsscraps' tonight or tomorrow. Generally, thank you to everyone who keeps following this story. (And all of my stories, too for that matter.)

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
**__**Chapter 6: Desire**_

"_I wasn't born to lose you. / I want you, I want you / I want you so bad"  
_- Bob Dylan, "I Want You"

After nearly two weeks it was no longer new, but every time Raven woke up in the circle of Robin's arms she felt the flutter in her stomach that she had come to recognize was a mixture of longing, excitement, lust, and belonging. She had thought that the feelings she felt those first few days upon waking up with him under her cheek or feeling the press of his chest at her back, his hands against her thigh or (his favorite place of late) against her stomach under her sleep shirt, would wear off or fade, grow into something else...but they never had.

From the moment she had pulled away from his arms after finding out she was not pregnant and silently led him to her bedroom, they had spent every spare moment together. Sometimes in her bedroom, sometimes in his. Sometimes they slept, sometimes they talked with each other, tasted, touched, and explored each other. Sometimes they did more.

Now, when he looked at her, it was with the intimate knowledge of what every inch of her skin looked like, where every curve of her body led, how she fit into his embrace in eyes she knew darkened into the deep blue of the deep end of the clearest ocean with his passion.

That first night on the full moon, it had been lust that brought them together. The next morning had been exploration. The night after their argument about her possible pregnancy had been about comfort. She had thought that would be all it would be from that moment on. Especially when he had been as thorough in his attentions to her as she had been with him. Why would she still long to feel his touch when she had already satisfied her curiosity of what it might feel like to have him touch her? Why would he still look at her with lust in his eyes once that lust had been sated?

Except..it _hadn't_ been.

Not for him and definitely not for her.

She could feel it whenever he looked at her, that knowledge there in his eyes that said he knew how to make her gasp, where to touch her to make her clutch at him, how far he could push her before she demanded release or pushed him back. Even through the mask he still wore when they were with their friends or fighting crime but never when they were alone, she could feel the heat of the knowledgeable gaze through the cloth and instead of scaring her, it made her want him all the more.

Once they'd had a taste of freedom, it seemed lust and passion would not be put back inside their box. She couldn't blame them really (blame herself, even). She was enjoying herself too much.

None of the others ever became any the wiser and although Cyborg had confronted Robin and Raven respectively concerning the obvious anger and tension in the medlab (and the missing time on the surveillance recording from the medlab room) he had been given a convincing reason and upon seeing his friends back to normal the following days, he had been mollified.

Outwardly, nothing except sleeping arrangements changed much. Raven still avoided having to go to the mall with Starfire, but meditated with her at least three times a week. Robin still trained them all incessantly, never showing any leniency to any of them. Raven and Robin still played chess on slow days and sat in comfortable silences in the common room most other days.

And if their hands grazed more often than not when passing close, or if their eyes locked for longer than normal at odd moments or more often than usual, no one noticed.

Outwardly.

Internally, _everything_ changed. Not enough to make a nuisance, or so they felt uncomfortable about it, but little by little, so that they almost didn't notice the change at all.

Outwardly, neither Robin nor Raven seemed to care any more than usual if the other was wounded in a fight. Robin still occasionally caught her before she could hit an inanimate object if he was in the area and Raven did (once or twice) stand in front of him just in time to put up a black energy shield before something bad and/or nasty could hit him, but that was nothing strange or new. She did the same for any of the others just as Robin did and as the others did for them. It was what teamwork was about. Robin never stopped fighting just because Raven fell, especially if one of the others was seeing if she was alright and the last time Raven called out to him in desperate concern over his well-being was when she was still in her child's body when she thought her father had killed him. (Those, everyone would admit, were special circumstances.)

But at night, when they were alone, Robin would gingerly itemize each of her bruises and the expression on his face told her exactly how much it cost him to keep from going to her when she received them.

"I should have been faster," he would confess to her.

"What we do here is separate from what we do out there," she would remind him. "Forget out there." And she would kiss him and although he might not forget, he didn't argue and never let on.

She fully expected that one day, she would look at him and not feel that urge to touch him or be touched. Every morning, she expected to not feel that rush of recognition and need course through her as she turned to find him asleep next to her (or awake and watching her, as the case may be). She waited for the moment when he would look at her, and she wouldn't feel the pitch in her stomach, when just the whisper of his caresses would fail to uncurl the tendrils of desire inside her.

But it never came and after nearly two weeks, she stopped wondering if the next look or touch would be it and started instead to simply enjoy the hunger in his eye when he showed up at her door at night, to relish the electricity that sang across her skin when they happened to touch during the day.

Among other things they had spoken of in those moments before they drifted off to sleep or on lazy mornings when they woke on their own rather than with the blaring of the Titan alarm, Robin had finally asked his questions and had her answers (such as they were). Raven had explained to him how whatever she knew about her time of the month was limited to her own experiences and the theories of her inner Ravens and the tutors on Azarath. And how she had never found any reference anywhere to this monthly weakening of her powers related to her reproduction. She had explained how as far as she could tell, that night was the only night when she was fertile and her womb able to take seed: the only night she was capable of becoming pregnant.

He had agreed that it made sense and although they never preoccupied themselves with the usual precautions purely human females worried about, they had agreed that it would be prudent for them to take whatever precautions were necessary when her time came again.

So, by the time she felt the tell-tale weakening of her limbs, the nearly imperceptible blurriness to her vision and the overall dulling of her senses they thought they were ready. They planned for seamless reasons for the others to be away from the Tower. They had provided reasons why Robin would not be accompanying them which did not cast any undue suspicion onto the reasons why. And they provided explanations as to what Raven's alternate plans would be and why she would be unreachable the entire night. The plans as to how they would assure that there would be no threat to any other pregnancy scares in the next month were the simplest to think of and to execute.

Every contingency was planned for. Every contingency that either of them could fathom at least.

How could either of them even consider the fact that once Raven allowed lust and passion free reign, they would have plans of their own?

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**A/N:** So...what'd y'all think? The next chapter is going to have a bit of a lime. (If I can make it work.) ((wry smile))


	7. Consummation

A/N: So, um…sorry it took so long

**A/N:** So, um…sorry it took so long? Eheheh….Almost 17 months. Wow. Really, sorry. I've had bits of this written for forever, but just wasn't able to put it all together. Now, I have, so I hope you enjoy the final product. This is obviously not the end of the series, although I am now thinking I see a light at the end of the tunnel – I think probably not the next chapter (which is going to be a very short interlude chapter) but the one after that, Chapter 9, is going to be the climax (excuse the pun) chapter, after which all things will wind down.

**Thanks:** As ever to _**Kysra**_ and _**Absentia**_ who are always kind enough to read everything I send their way, and give me their honest opinions about what I've written and what might be missing, and especially to _**MsLessa**_, my SmutGuru extraordinaire who never leaves me in a lurch and always makes time to read my not-quite-smutty-but-sorta-risque stuff and who can "read through me like glass". Specific review responses on 'emsscraps' tonight or tomorrow. (It's been so long since I've updated this one...I don't even remember how many people reviewed the last one.)

**Warning**: This chapter, perhaps more than any of them since _**Instinct 1**_ is not for the kiddies. Although, it perhaps isn't as lemony as people might want, from me, this is pretty darn close. (To paraphrase what I read in a book today: this chapter is as close to smut as damn is as close to cursing.)

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
**__**Chapter 7: Consummation **_

"_I can't stop when it comes to you"  
_– Vow, Garbage

When the door opened, he was not surprised and he did not doubt whom it was that had entered, despite the fact that he hadn't heard the others leave and that Raven was not yet due back. So, when he turned under the spray of the shower to look through the fogged shower door, it was more for the pleasure of watching her undress, even in silhouette, than it was to confirm her identity.

Catching sight of her, he paused and his breath trapped in the back of his throat, ignoring the hot spray of the shower. He watched as she went through the slow, deliberate motions of removing her uniform, and he had a moment of lucidity – a moment of recognizing with absolute clarity that he would always know her presence when she walked into a room, no matter what he was doing or who else was in it. He wasn't sure that he would ever be able to explain how he knew, but he knew that he always would.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she opened the door to the shower and stood just beyond its threshold, meeting his eyes and waiting. The sight of her body so perfect always made him feel as if it were the first time he were seeing it, all awe and amazement at the beauty of it, and the realization that it was bared for him, that he had the freedom to touch her, to taste her and love her still surprised him, each and every time, despite the fact he knew every inch of her body so intimately already.

He knew he would never take her presence for granted, but he couldn't help but wonder (only during moments when he was not this close to her, not this way, when he didn't have her at his fingertips) whether he might some day stop being awestruck by her.

He reached out for her, cupping one hand at her cheek and drawing her into the circle of his arm, under the spray of the water and against his lips in one smooth motion.

She always responded to his kiss, but when she fed at his mouth almost hungrily, her hands slipping on his soapy wet skin as they tried to grab onto his shoulders, his back, arching herself against him, he remembered that it was the night of the full moon. That she was at her most primal.

That, if he took her as he wanted to after such a response from her, she could get pregnant.

So, he broke the kiss and pushed her against the tile wall, holding her still with hands on her waist, thumbs pressing into her ribcage.

"You're home early," he said, ignoring the pressure of the water on his back, the way she looked at him through mussed and wet strands of purple, how her chest heaved.

"The Jump City Police Department never likes to keep me more than they have to, even when they're just taking my statement," she answered, just slightly breathy. Her hands worked their way over his sides, around his back and to his shoulders. "I asked you not to start without me," she smirked at him.

He answered her knowing grin with one of his own and dipped his head down to press his lips against the hollow of her throat, letting his tongue taste the sensitive spot he had found there lightly. "I was being incredibly good in my shower, Raven," he said, his voice reverberating against her skin. He raised his kiss just slightly higher and her head fell back to give him room. "Until you showed up, giving me ideas."

"Like--" she gasped as he nipped at the skin just under her chin, "--what?" she finished on a sigh when he licked the spot.

He raised his head and smiled at her slowly, as his hands answered her question for him, sliding on her wet skin to cup her breasts. He thrilled as her breath caught when their eyes met and her hands on his shoulders clenched reflexively, her nails digging into his skin. He lowered his face to a mere few inches from hers. "Why don't I surprise you?" he asked, closing the distance and swallowing her gasp as his thumbs grazed the sensitized skin of her breasts.

She let him play for a few moments, content to let him lead the kiss, to decide where his hands went and how long they strayed, her hands holding onto his shoulders as if afraid that if she lost her grip, she wouldn't be able to stand. He knew his time of exploration was running out when she started to press against his hand, her back arching away from the tile of the wall, her hands moving from his shoulders and trailing up his neck and into his hair. But when he took his time teasing her nipple, she growled low in her throat and he knew his time was up mere seconds before she pushed against him, forcing him away from her.

She used their momentum and turned him so that his back was to the wall and her hands were pressing against his chest. "I think I need to show you how it's done, Boy Wonder," she said, her voice low and sensual, just before lowering her lips to his chest.

He might have been content to let her have her way, especially when it felt so amazing to feel her body sliding against his as she looked for places to taste, but when he felt her hands brace on his hips and her tongue tentatively touch the slightly discolored scar on his side that was the start of all this nearly three months ago to the day, he knew exactly what her intention was, more surely than if he would have been able to read her mind.

He also knew, just as surely, that if he even felt the heat of her breath on the oh-so-sensitized flesh, he would lose all sense of control and he didn't trust he'd be able to keep from searching for that release inside her that would be the only thing to calm him.

So, despite every nerve ending clamoring otherwise, he cupped her chin and raised her face to his again, smiling at her knowingly and before she could even continue her bid for dominance, he shifted her so that she was fully under the spray of hot water and held her in place with his body, arms wrapped tight around her back, pressing her against him, his mouth against hers stilling her protests.

When they finally broke apart to breathe, Raven smirked at him as she pushed his hair out of his eyes, "If you meant to cool me down, I think you'll need to change the water temperature."

He laughed and it was a laugh she only ever heard when they were together like this, entirely masculine and knowing. "I don't want to cool you down, just slow you down," he admitted, leaning down and nipping at her neck before she could respond. "Plus," he continued, pausing to lick at the curve of her shoulder, "I wasn't quite finished with my shower yet."

"Oh," she gasped as he traced the downward slope of her shoulder with his lips, "So sorry," she continued as his hands found the mound of her breasts and his thumb began teasing her nipple. She took a breath, but her voice still came out breathy. "Allow me to help," she said, reaching for the soap stand she knew was somewhere to her right.

The shampoo bottle clattered to the ground near their feet, but her hands eventually found the bar of Irish Spring soap he insisted on using and she brought it to his back. She was working on building up a lather around his shoulders when he gave up resisting and hooked his hands under her arms and pushed her back against the moist tile, holding her still.

Their eyes met and it took all of his strength not to sink to the ground, bringing her on top of him. "Not _quite_ what I meant," he breathed.

Her hands moved, caressing chest, fingers trailing over hip bone and waist. "Please elaborate," she said, leaning in and kissing his neck right under his ear lobe before whispering against the rush of the water, "What would you like me to work on?"

Any other day, he might told her _exactly_ what she wanted to hear – he really was a considerate lover – but he knew that look in her eye and precisely what it meant. It wasn't that he was against foreplay in principle, just not on the night of the full moon – not when he had to be responsible, when he knew she was counting on him to be, and she was slick and ready and he was more than willing, but protection-less.

On this night, he didn't trust himself to be responsible. He couldn't trust himself not to surrender to the need to be inside her when he was still so far from the damn condoms they had gone through so much trouble to buy and which were currently in their box tucked neatly in his bedside drawer.

He reached around her and turned off the shower, smiling when she shivered at the sudden cold, despite the steam still curling around them. "Enough bathing," he announced.

"But I haven't finished yet," she argued.

He smirked at her. "Hold that thought," he said, lifting her off the ground and against him, effectively seating her on his arms linked under her. "I'm sure we'll make it back here eventually…"

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her ankles crossing at his back, pulling closer against him and making absolutely certain that each part of her was touching him. She linked her arms around his neck and smirked into his pleasantly surprised, deep blue eyes when he groaned at the contact.

"Robin," her voice was little more than a seductive hum as her lips moved against his ear. "How kinky of you."

She leaned in to kiss him, and all thoughts of teasing or responsibility fled from his mind. The sudden shift made him lose his balance and they fell back against the tile of the shower with the wet slap of skin as their lips touched and he instinctively deepened the kiss. More out of a need to keep them both upright than anything else, he pressed her against the tile, swallowing her sound of pleasure as she slid a few inches down his body.

Once she realized the water and soap on both their bodies allowed her to slide against him, she took full advantage of the knowledge, using her leverage against the tile wall to slide a few inches down. When he hefted her upward again, she groaned against his lips and let herself slide downward again. He lifted her up again, and heard her little gasp of pleasure, then pressed her harder against the wall to stop her from sliding down anymore. It was much more difficult than he would have imagined to keep her in his arms when she was, for all intents and purposes, determined to get her feet on the ground.

Thinking to distract her, he re-positioned and lowered his mouth to the fleshy mound of her breast, kissing her there in a way that her only choice was to toss her head back, tighten her legs around him and forget, at least momentarily, about getting her way. Bracing his legs, he pulled away from the wall and miraculously held his balance, even when her fingers tangled in his hair and her head rested on his shoulder.

"Where are you going, Robin?" she asked, her voice barely above a throaty whisper.

"Somewhere infinitely more comfortable," he replied, carrying her out of the shower.

She shivered involuntarily and nuzzled the bare skin of his neck, alternately licking and gently biting at it. "But we're not finished with our shower," she said.

He set her down on the sink, but her legs didn't let him go so he had to reach for one of the fluffy white towels on the rack outside the shower door. He pressed it against her face, slowly, oh-so-gently trailing it down her left cheek, following the curve of her neck, and circling her breast before staring the process over with the right side. "We will need one in a few hours, trust me," he smirked at her and there was a responding look in her eyes that hitched his breath for a moment.

Following his example, she grabbed another towel from the wrack and extended it behind his back, gripping one end in each hand, effectively trapping him with the white terry cloth. She moved her hands, rubbing the towel across his broad back briskly, and, while he was raising goosebumps with the torturous task of drying off her abs, she pulled on the towel, bringing him against her. He looked at her and smiled, she kissed his lips in what could have been a chaste press of lips, but of course wasn't. She broke the kiss by bringing the towel over his head and rubbing at his damp hair.

He pulled back laughing.

She brought the towel down, around his neck, bringing the bits she was holding in her hands against the sides of his face, gently rubbing his cheeks, then his ears, and lower still to his shoulders. "I don't think I've ever dried off anyone except myself before," she admitted, watching her own hands contrasted against the white of the towel and the tan of the skin of his chest.

"You're doing a hell of a job," he admitted. "As a matter of fact…" he draped the towel he had over her shoulders and brought her against him, rubbing at her back with the towel to dry her there, while lifting her back into his arms at the same time. "I think we're dry enough," he decided.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she murmured.

When he reached the bed, he raised one knee onto the mattress and gently lay her down, hands trailing along her sides as he stood up away from her, Raven using her nails to lightly trail down his skin as he moved away. She lay back against the pillows and smiled at the evidence of her efforts as he pulled away from her to reach into the bedside drawer.

It took all of his concentration to reach for the condom packet, open the foil, and slip the rubber over his sensitized skin, and Raven's attentions to any area she could reach didn't help his concentration any.

It wasn't until, with a half teasing growl, he threatened to tie her up to the headboard if she didn't let him do what he had to, that she relented, reclining against the cream colored sheets, a sensual chuckle promising that perhaps someday she'd make him carry through on that threat, and contented herself with caressing his shoulders almost lazily.

Even that mild and gentle a touch had him shiver with expectation, so that when he was done, he slid up her skin to take her lips in a demanding kiss, pressing her hands into the mattress on either side of her to stop her from teasing him beyond his control.

It wasn't long until she nipped at his shoulder and the surprise had him release some of the pressure holding her down, not much, but enough for her to flip them over with a feral grin. She straddled his waist and leaned down, her still damp breasts pushing into his bare chest as she held his hands against the mattress, pressing her lips in that spot just under his chin, and working her way slowly down.

Her touch was so soft, the way it always was when they were being gentle and slow, that he hardly realized it when she rolled the thin piece of latex off of him, until he touched her and the warmth of her skin against the bareness of his sent an unexpected shock of lust and recognition through him like lightning.

His head fell back against the pillows with a gasp as she positioned herself on top of him and before he had a chance to recollect himself, he felt her warmth around him. Somehow, the realization that she had removed the only protection against another pregnancy scare rang like a bell in his head, banging around inside and echoing in the parts of his mind dulled by pleasure and passion until he reacted the only way he could.

With a growl, he clasped her shoulders, flipped them around so she was against the mattress and pulled out of her, holding her down and glaring at her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone deep and dark with passion and confusion and a bit of anger.

"If you have to ask," she said, reaching for him.

He pressed her harder against the mattress and she looked at him in surprise. "Well, if you want to play it rough tonight, you should have grabbed some silk handkerchiefs or something."

"You took off the condom, Raven!" he said, his fingers digging into her arms so that some part of him was certain they'd be marks the next day.

"I know, Robin," she smiled seductively at him. "I can't stand the feel of it."

"Did you forget why we decided on one?"

The smile didn't leave her lips as she stared up at him almost docilely. "You can always pull out before you climax, can't you?"

"We discussed this, Raven," and then he really saw her eyes, really saw the look in them and knew she remembered every single word they had spoken. He pulled completely away from her and sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair.

He felt the bed shift as she sat up behind him, and resisted looking at her as he felt her make her way across the bed toward him. Her hands slipped around his back to caress down the front of his chest and he felt his heart race at the feel of her breasts pressed against his back, her cheek on the back of his neck her smell all around him and her warmth so very close. He held perfectly still when her hands traveled down his chest, but when they didn't stop at his abs, continuing instead to gently caress their way further south, he stood up from the bed, turning away from her. He was confused, he was angry, but he still wanted her. That much was painfully obvious.

"Damnit, Rae, what the hell is this?" he asked, angrily. He turned around and met her eyes. "Do you _want_ to have a baby?" He ignored the part of him that wanted her to say yes.

She looked at him, and smiled and for a moment his breath caught. He saw the affirmation in her eyes, could almost hear the echo of it in the intake of her breath. Then, as if she were just waking up and remembering a bad dream, the smile faded and she frowned. "No…" she said softly. She sat on the bed and hugged herself. "But I can feel the _need_ inside me…Robin –" and he recognized her normal voice, knew she was working on fighting off the primal self that came upon her every full moon to talk to him. "I _should_ be pregnant," she said. "That's what this time is for," she continued and her voice broke a little. "I've found a suitable mate, I should be…" she trailed off and looked up at him, almost afraid. "I'm sorry."

He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to apologize. He took a step toward her, wanting to hold her in his arms, but she recoiled.

"No, Robin, don't--" she shook her head. "I don't trust myself." She stood up from the bed. "I think I should go."

"Stay here," Robin said, grabbing his pants and a shirt. "I'll go."

"Robin."

Robin stopped at the note of worry in her voice, but he didn't turn around.

"I understand," he said. "But it's safer if we talk about this tomorrow."

"Yes," she said and the sound of her voice, almost as unemotional as it was in front of strangers, nearly undid him.

Raven watched Robin go and felt it – actually _felt_ the coldness and emptiness settle in around her – when he left the Tower entirely.

She crawled under the covers that still smelled of him, laid her head back on his pillow and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**A/N:** So, whaddya think? Hot? Mild? Unworthy? Okay, so I'll admit…I'm blushing, so I couldn't read it too many times to edit it. So…yeah, hope you enjoy it. Chapter 8 which is going to be a kind of interlude, is almost ready, so look for that soon, kay?

**Musical Insipration:**

(1) Ooh La La, Goldfrapp  
(2) Box of Sunshine, Infidel, Inc.  
(3) Mine, Savage Garden  
(4) Crushcrushcrush, Paramore  
(5) Animals, Nickelback  
(6) Where Do I Begin?, Shirley Basey


	8. Discourse

**A/N:** Okay, admittedly, this is a filler chapter. Not 'filler' because I had nothing else to write about, but because it kind of had to be done that way. It was something that HAD to be addressed and I couldn't think of another way of having it done. That said, it's short because once it was done, Writer!Em just knew it had to end there and not go any further. So, sorry.

I'm not particularly in the right state of mind to decide if I like this chapter or not. I know initially, I hadn't liked it too much for some reason, but I forget why now.

I leave it up to your capable hands, my loyal readers, to determine what (if anything) is missing from this, 'kay?

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
**__**Chapter 8: Discourse**_

_"And I had the sense to recognize / That I don't know how to let you go"  
_- Do What You Have To Do, Sarah Maclachlan

She awoke to the sound of water hitting the tile floor in the next room. Realization hit her hard on the heels of consciousness and despite herself, she blushed. Not because of the images that came to her like memory and fantasy together, and not because of how they made her feel, but because of how things had ended the night before and because the memory of the end of their night came only secondary to the desire to replay the earlier part of the evening.

Never one to shy away from facing a situation, even a potentially unpleasant one, she stood from his bed, slipped on one of his shirts she found on the way to the bathroom and walked into the steamy confines. She was quiet, not on purpose but merely because she always was, yet he somehow knew she was there regardless. She saw his shadow pause against the opaque shower door and his head turn toward her. She could feel his eyes on her, even if she couldn't make out the features of his face through the glass and the steam.

She approached as far as the rug in front of the bathtub. She could feel his attention on her, his silhouette didn't move. The water falling against the tile was the only sound for a moment. "I'm sorry."

She saw his silhouette exhale and his hands reached up to wipe water off his face. "There's nothing to apologize for," he said on the other side of the door, moving again to continue the ritual of his shower, only slower and she knew he was still listening for her. Still more aware of her than he was of the water hitting his body.

"Yes there is," she insisted. "I thought I'd have more control over –" she trailed off, not knowing how to name what she became during the full moon. "I should have more control," she declared.

He shook his head and she felt it as some water ricocheted off him and escaped beyond the door to land on her bare big toe. "We tried," he said and Raven was thrown by the sensation in the pit of her stomach like falling at his words and the ones she thought were going to follow them.

Robin blinked up into the spray of water and thought about his next words. He knew they couldn't risk the full moon again if they wanted to be careful, but for a moment as he watched her silhouette on the other side of the door, he had to fight the words that would suggest they try a different approach the next month, the words that would urge her to tempt the fates again. As much as he tried, however, he couldn't stop the thought from entering his mind: don't say anything at all – just let it happen.

He couldn't help at least to think about it. After all, weren't the same reasons they had decided to try the condoms still true?

Being with her the rest of the month was beyond anything he could have possibly imagined if he had let himself imagine such things, but she herself had admitted that during the full moon she was completely uninhibited. He wanted to hear her scream out his name again, wanted to hear her laughter, things she didn't allow herself the rest of the month. And a part of him was willing to stake a possible pregnancy to have it.

'And so what if she does get pregnant?' he thought, then froze. Even the hot water falling on his body couldn't keep the sensation of cold washing down his spine. What was he doing? What was he thinking? He shook his head as the logical reasoning finally won out and he knew that he couldn't trust himself during the full moon with her. Not if she couldn't hold back that part of her that wanted to get pregnant, because he couldn't deny that there was a part of him that wouldn't mind it if she did.

"We can't risk it," he finally spoke, his hand fisting with the effort of doing the right thing. "Next month, I'll just have to leave with the others."

He watched her silhouette and for what seemed endless moments, she was still. He wished he could read her the way she could sometimes read him, would give anything to know whether she was wondering if maybe none of it was worth the effort, but then she nodded and took a step toward the shower door. He held his breath, waiting for her move, but then she stopped, turned on her heel and started back out of the room.

Before he knew what he was doing, he slid the door open, heedless of the water dripping onto the carpet. "Raven?"

She turned around and their eyes met. "Yes?"

He took one look at her, in his t-shirt, hair mussed and expression grave, and smiled at her. "Come here?"

She walked back to the door, stopping just shy of her toes touching the outer edge of shower tile. He reached out for her, hand leaving a trail of water from cheek to neck, but when he pulled her to him and kissed her, it didn't matter.

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

**A/N:** It's occurred to me recently that this fic has a whole lot of water sex, doesn't it? Hmmm…._I wonder why?_


	9. Complications

**A/N:** Whoa. This chapter sort of blindsided me one day just before I went away to the Beach a week and a half ago, and I've been working on it pretty much insistently since then. I'm pretty happy with it. I had known what, more or less, I wanted to happen in this one -- that is to say, I had known what the scenario was and who was going to be making appearances and the general outline of how things would end up, but ALL characters involved surprised the hell out of me with their actions.

I kind of like it. I'm happy with where this chapter took things.

**Thanks:** Particularly to **_Absentia_**. She played plot/grammar beta for this one, and as always, I have much love and thanks to throw her way. Also, **_GuardianKysra_** played plot beta for this one too, so many xoxo her way.

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
Chapter 9: Complications**_

_"It's strange what desire will make foolish people do..."_  
- Wicked Game, Chris Isaak

Despite Raven's better judgment, she let him into her room when he came to the door. Still, she avoided looking at him by walking to her bookshelves. "I thought everyone was leaving already," she said casually.

"Starfire decided to change her hair at the last moment and Beast Boy broke his image enhancer while he was playing with it, so Cyborg is fixing it," Robin answered as he watched her move about the fairly dark room.

She wanted to laugh, and so despite the closed drapes keeping her view of the sky, that told her the full moon was very close to rising. "You shouldn't be here, then --" she glanced at him over her shoulder and his eyes caught and held hers. "I--"

He smiled at her and nodded. "I know," he said, taking a step toward her, but stopping himself at the last minute. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

She smiled at him and turned away before she could do anything else. "I'll be fine, Richard," she assured him.

He sighed, and although it wasn't loud, she could hear it. "I don't like leaving you here alone when your powers are out of commission," he admitted.

"What choice do we have?" she asked, shrugging. "It would be worse if I were the one to leave -- we discussed this," she reminded him. "Our plan is sound," she assured him. "You'll remain in close contact through our communicators, and I'll call if anything happens."

"I know." There was another sigh and she didn't have to look at him to picture him running a hand through his hair. "I just wish we weren't going all the way to Los Angeles," he mused. "It's too far to get here with any sort of feasible response time."

She turned to look at him again, and felt something stir deep inside her, and she had to stop herself from reaching for him. "I promised, Robin," she said softly. He lifted his eyes to hers and she smiled at him. "I won't put myself at risk," there was a determination and an assertion to her words he heard rarely, but knew were sincere. "I _promised_." She turned away from him. "I will be certain to call for backup should any problems arise."

"Let's hope nothing comes up," Robin said with feeling. She smiled at him softly, in a way she hoped was reassuring, but he shook his head. "I'm not kidding, Rae," he said, breaching the distance between them. "Anything bigger than a cat in a tree and you call the cops -- I don't care if you have to use the emergency line and pretend to be a concerned citizen so they don't know Raven of the Titans can't respond herself, but you stay put."

She turned to look at him, so close, but still a few feet away. "And where should we tell the cops that we were instead of responding to an emergency like we normally would have?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged. "We'll come up with something later," he said. "We'll tell them we were out of the city on business or something," he insisted. "You stay put."

She started to turn toward her bookshelves but he caught her arm and turned her around to face him. He met her eyes and Raven felt the jolt of awareness fly through her. The moon wasn't out quite yet, but if he didn't leave soon...

"Robin," she said softly, her free hand fisting at her side to avoid touching him. Touching him right then was a _very_ bad idea...

His thumb traced the outline of her pulse at the wrist he held captive, almost absently. "Maybe Starfire should stay with you..." he murmured, his eyes caught with hers. "It's not safe leaving you--"

She cut him off by bringing her free hand to his lips and smiling gently at him. "How do you think it'll look to Starfire if she catches me swimming on the roof or working out in the gym or pouring ice down my neck or any of the very carnal things I'm going to have to do to get through tonight without you?" she asked seriously, her eyes trailing away from his to where her fingers and his lips touched. He was holding himself perfectly still, hardly even breathing. Still, she could feel the faint push of his heartbeat through his skin, the electric thrum of his aura.

"You should probably go before--"

Robin leaned forward, her fingers slipping away from his lips and into his hair as if they knew what he had planned, and kissed her before she could finish. Even as their lips touched, a part of her mind was warning her that this was a very bad idea, but it was a very small part and it was coming from very far away. And then he started to pull away and she reacted without thought at all, leaning into him, her fingers in his hair clenching as she deepened the kiss, her blood soaring as he groaned against her mouth.

He backed her against the wall and she felt the purely instinctual part of her rise like the sea. _'This is right,'_ her primal nature purred, spilling warmth through her insides even as his hands traced fire over her simple t-shirt. _'He's the one.'_

But then he pulled away, breathing heavily, and although she wanted nothing more than to hold on to him, than to wrap her leg around him in the hopes of anchoring him in place, she closed her eyes and slowly pulled her hand free of his hair, leaning back against the wall to help keep herself standing as she carved some space between them.

"You better go," she sighed.

"Raven, I--" he started, but she shook her head.

"I know," she told him, avoiding his gaze because she knew looking into his eyes would be yet another mistake. She placed the palms of her hands flat against his chest, ignoring the way his heat reached out for her. That it took all her will to keep from fisting her hands in his shirt told her how little time she had left, so she closed her eyes and pushed. When she hardly nudged him, she knew her powers were gone and their time was up. "Robin," she said, her voice full of urgency, too like desperation for her liking. "Please, go." He must have heard it in her voice, or seen the encroaching loss of control in her eyes, because he did.

She felt cold as he walked away, and told herself she'd best start the night with something to warm her up. Even so, she felt rooted in place by the memory of his touch and the look in his eyes long after he'd gone.

xxxxxxxx

"Are you certain leaving Raven behind was all right?" Starfire asked from the back seat of the T-Car.

"It's what she wanted, Star," Robin's voice, clear even through the com-link, answered.

"Yeah," Cyborg agreed. "Still, maybe we should've insisted some more?" he wondered. "I mean, y'all know how Raven is."

"Yeah," Beast Boy added. "She likes to pretend she doesn't like spending time with us, but come on." Beast Boy grinned.

"No," Cyborg said, glancing sideways at where Beast Boy was in the passenger seat. "She really doesn't like spending time with you."

Beast Boy wasn't offended, but stuck his tongue out at Cyborg for appearances sake.

"It's the rest of us she really likes spending time with," Cyborg finished, grinning.

Beast Boy ignored him. "Plus, this is a really awesome concert, and I know she'd like the band," he turned from Starfire to Cyborg. "Maybe we should've, like, bugged her?"

"Can you guys really imagine Raven enjoying being crammed into a place like the Nokia Theatre with 1,000 other sweaty, screaming, pissed and high people?" Robin asked, navigating around the car that just cut between him and the T-Car.

The inhabitants of the T-Car shared a look and it was Starfire that answered. "There is logic in that," she accepted. "But I will still miss her presence with us."

Robin smiled behind the helmet at Starfire's good heart and would have said something if Beast Boy hadn't interrupted.

"I just hope no one pulls anything in Jump tonight," he said, sitting back to watch the ocean roll by outside his window. "It'd suck to have to leave the concert early."

Starfire nodded. "It is worrying that she would have to deal with any disturbances alone," she added. "She is capable of handling most anything that can come up, of course--"

_'But not tonight,'_ Robin thought, gripping the handlebars of his bike tightly. He should have stayed with her -- or at least, somewhere nearby...

"Well, it's not like she really will be all alone," Cyborg offered casually.

"Dude, if you think the po-pos are going to do something more than get in her way..." Beast Boy started on a scoff.

Cyborg laughed. "Yeah, okay, sure, and I suddenly turned naive overnight or something?" he asked. "I meant Speedy, of course, dumb ass."

"Speedy?" Robin asked, jerking in surprise so the bike swerved a little too much to the right. He got it under control immediately.

"Yeah," Cyborg said, confusion obvious in his voice. "He's going to be in Jump tonight talking to the DA or something, he said, remember?"

No one remembered and Cyborg laughed sheepishly. "Oh, oops," Cyborg said. "I could've sworn I told y'all..."

"You didn't," Robin clipped.

"Oh, I know why," Cyborg said, epiphany dawning in his voice. "He called when I was just finishing with BB and we were all ready to leave the Tower - he wanted to know if we'd want to get together for pizza when he was done, but I told him about the concert and so since he'd be in the neighborhood, I asked him to let Rae know he'd be available to help if something came up."

Beast Boy's eyes opened wide. "Speedy in the Tower by himself?" he asked, aghast. "Are you crazy? He'll eat all my Cheetos!"

"He will not eat all your Cheetos!" Cyborg argued, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, he will!" Beast Boy insisted, his voice annoyingly close to a whine.

"Do you think he might still be there when we get back in the morning?" Starfire questioned, ignoring the blossoming squabble between the two boys in the front.

"Uh, maybe," Cyborg answered. "He might decide to spend the night rather than go back to..." he trailed off as he noticed the little red dot on his GPS that signaled Robin's bike swerve off from behind them and take the exit ramp they were just passing. "Rob, what are you doing?"

"I just got a message from The Batman," Robin lied. "He needs me to check something out for him."

Cyborg frowned. "Do you need us to come along?"

"No, that's fine," Robin said. "It's nothing dangerous," he added. "Just a straight forward follow-up on a lead."

"So, we'll see you at the concert later?" Cyborg asked.

"Maybe," he said, sighing. "Actually, this might be time consuming," he added, his tone clearly rueful. "If you see someone that is trying to buy a ticket, go ahead and give it away or something --" he added. "It'd be a shame for it to go to waste."

"Tch, give?" Beast Boy asked. "I'll sell that sucker for $200 bucks, easy!"

"Isn't that immoral?" Starfire asked.

Cyborg ignored them and spoke directly to Robin. "Okay," he assented. "But if you need us, just call."

"Roger that," Robin said, turning off his open com link, and flipping off his bike's tracker, as he turned the bike back toward Jump City.

"Damn lousy timing Batman has," Beast Boy groused.

Cyborg nodded, but he remained pensive.

xxxxxx

Speedy made it to the Tower West later than he had expected. He had tried hailing the Tower several times to let Raven know he was on his way, but no one answered. _'Either she decided to go to the concert after all,' _he thought,_ 'or she just doesn't want to answer the call.'_

And, considering that this was Raven he was talking about, it was likely the latter. He could never figure out just why, but he often had the feeling that Raven didn't like him much. He knew she didn't talk much to anyone, but she usually sort of ignored he existed at all. He was slightly offended by that.

Oh, sure, he'd talked to her more than a few times, but anytime he'd tried to flirt with her, she'd done more than just turn him down -- she'd plain frozen him out, and then he'd have to work doubly hard just to be noticed by her the next time he was in the area.

When Cyborg had told him that Raven was going to be alone in the Tower, he had thought it might work out to be a good chance to get to know her better, but as he entered the main room and found it mostly dark and deserted, with nary a sign of life, he sighed and figured that maybe it wasn't in the cards after all.

He was just on the way to find BB's not-so-secret Cheeto's stash (he hadn't had dinner, after all) when a sudden thought gave him pause. Just because the lights weren't on, didn't necessarily mean nobody was home. This was Raven, after all. Raven was probably in the Tower -- somewhere. And if he didn't find her and let her know he was there, she would probably be mightily pissed.

With a sigh, he pulled out his Titan communicator and tried getting Raven's frequency.

No dice.

He sighed again, figuring there was no hope but to find her the old fashioned way, and set out to look for her in the few places he knew she liked to hang out.

When he passed the hall that led down to the gym and found the lights on, he stopped and considered. She wasn't the type to be working out in the middle of the night by herself, was she?

_'Well, I don't really know her that well actually,' _he realized and headed down to the short flight of stairs to the door to the gym at the end of the hall.

He opened the door and was completely flabbergasted. He knew that Raven could defend herself hand to hand if need be, had even seen her in action, but never to this extent.

_'Is that a smirk on her face?'_ he wondered. She couldn't. Raven didn't smirk. He might not know if she was the type to work out in the middle of the night, but expressive emotions on her face? That he knew was so unlikely as to be nearly impossible.

He frowned. Something was definitely not right.

xxxxx

Raven could feel the physical exhaustion draining some of the aching need out of her, but she knew, in that part of her brain that was still logical, that it wouldn't be enough.

Nothing would be enough now that that part of her knew what it could have, but wasn't being allowed. Still, she didn't need it to be enough, she just needed it to be distracting. Distracting until moonset.

_'I don't have a choice since Robin isn't here.'_

She paused in her punches, catching the heavy bag before it could hit her and shook her head, breathing heavy. That wasn't her though, she realized. She shook her head, perturbed in a clear moment of prudence, at how her logic had already been skewed. _'That wasn't my thought,'_ she told herself firmly. _'I have a choice,' _she emphasized. _'I always have a choice, even if Robin were here...'_ she started punching the bag again, getting back into a groove. _ 'I always have a choic_e.'

_'Yes. You could go and find someone else who'll give you what you need tonight.'_

She didn't have a chance to argue with herself before she heard the sound of movement behind her. She turned, fists raised, prepared for battle, eyes scanning the area for an intruder. She was surprised at the wave of relief that flooded through her as she noticed Speedy standing near the entrance of the gym, hands raised inoffensively and a disarming smile on his lips.

"Hey, don't shoot!" he kidded. "I come in peace."

He obviously didn't know she couldn't harm him from her current position -- he was too far away.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice slightly more breathy than he had ever heard it, even though they'd worked out in the same place often enough.

"I was in the neighborhood and Cy told me I should look in on you because you were alone," he answered, walking further into the room.

Raven could tell, even despite the mask, when his eyes roved her body and although she knew he was searching her for evidence as to why she was acting for what to him would seem very strange indeed, her breathing hitched just the same under the weight of his perusal. She found herself watching the play of emotion on the planes of his handsome features -- the reflexive bunching of muscles as he (probably unconsciously) tensed in response to the unknown, the way his fingers twitched as if he would feel more comfortable with his bow in his hand.

_'Nice, strong, dexterous hands.'_

An image of what Speedy could do with hands like those ran rampant through her mind for a moment, so close to a vision, she felt the heat rush her spine and pool in her abdomen. She frowned at the impulse running through her veins to reach out and touch his hands -- to give him something else to play with.

_'Yeah, like say, the drawstring of these pants.'_

He seemed to find something off, because when he turned his gaze back to her face, his expression was obviously concerned. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I've never seen you work with the bag before."

She raised a brow and thought, _'You've never seen me work a lot of things before,'_ but she didn't say that aloud. Taking a deep breath, she managed to school her features into relative nonchalance. "Why do you ask?" she queried, "Am I doing it wrong?"

Speedy chuckled. "Surprisingly, no."

His laugh moved through her, twisting the need, making it thrum through her in anticipation. "I'm a very quick study," she said, her voice dropping an octave as she looked up at him from between the strands of her hair that had come loose of the ponytail she had placed it in at the start of her work out.

He shook his head and came a few steps further into the room. Raven watched him move like a predator -- eying him for weaknesses, a manner of approach. She didn't miss the look of contemplation and slight suspicion in his expression -- it was obvious he didn't know what to make of her new attitude.

Before she knew what she was doing, she quirked her head to the side, letting him see the way her eyes did as thorough an inspection of him as he had made of her earlier, albeit with an entirely different motivation. She had never kidded herself as to Speedy's attractiveness. He was slightly taller -- an inch or so -- than Robin and had better arm and shoulder definition, which she attributed to his work with the bow.

"Raven," he said into the charged silence. "Are you okay?"

She looked up to meet the whites of his mask. "I'm fine," she answered. "Why?" she questioned. "Does seeing me like this surprise you, Speedy?" she asked, taking another step toward him. He didn't back up, but it was obvious in the way he tensed even further that he wasn't sure what to expect from her.

"Yeah, actually, it kind of does," he admitted.

She smiled and refrained from laughing only because she thought he might take it wrong. She extended her hand with the glove, laces up. She waited until his eyes fell on her hand to speak, "Would you mind undoing me?"

Speedy's head jerked up from where he had been looking at the laces on her glove to her face so fast it might have caused whiplash.

She struggled to maintain a look of neutrality on her features, even as a part of her kept wondering what she thought she was doing.

_'You're just playing,'_ she reasoned. _'Speedy's always flirting with me -- no harm in giving as good as I get.'_

She motioned the glove again and raised a brow. "I can probably get it with my teeth, but I don't really like the taste of sweaty laces in my mouth, so if you don't mind...?" she trailed off.

She recognized it the moment he realized she was purposefully teasing him, and was surprised by the look of doubt there. Oh sure, there was a flash of interest, but it appeared Speedy had a good level more control than she had given him credit for. She worked very hard at keeping her face very passive and neutral.

He reached for the glove and tugged the knot on the laces free, pulling them apart enough for her to slip her hand free. "Thanks," she said as she offered him her other hand and used her recently de-gloved hand to push back her hair away from her face. She looked up at him as he looked down at the second set of laces and thought that this close up, she didn't see the similarities everyone was always touting between him and Robin. She let her eyes scan him from close up, noting that she could probably taste the skin of his jaw if she stood on the balls of her feet and reached. She watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, his nose flare as he must be close enough for him to smell the scents that always clung to her -- incense and candle wax and probably an undertone of the herbal oils she had used in her bath that afternoon. Could he smell her desire, she wondered?

A sharp tug brought her eyes back to where he seemed to be struggling with a particularly tough knot. "Having trouble?" she asked, her voice low and intimate.

"No," he said, clearing his throat midway the very short word. "I've got it," he assured her, and she watched as his dexterous fingers made quick work of the laces and the way the muscles in his arms bunched as he tugged the glove free and her breath caught as the desire coursed through her and she touched his arm with her free hand, not in a calculated move to seduce, but in an effort to remain standing.

_'I do not want Speedy! I want Robin!'_ she exclaimed internally, and swallowed thickly before forcing herself to step back, dropping her hand.

_'Except Robin left you here -- alone -- with this need...'_

She glanced at his face and noted he was still looking at her curiously, and more than a little suspiciously.

_'__And he's so much like Robin...except not as bogged down by morality.'_

Not that she had anything to complain about Robin as a lover. She had found him to be just the right amount of inventive and generous -- considerate on the whole, but thrillingly mercenary and possessive when she least expected it.

Yet still, back before she and Robin had begun their affair, she had wondered, every time Speedy made advances to her, whether he was all talk. She had often speculated about what he might do if one day, she accepted what he offered. She knew by the way he watched her, his hands still ready to fight and his body still tense as if to flee, his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in consideration that any chance she had of pretending she _wasn't_ different had passed.

"Where is everyone, Rae?" he asked.

His voice, his question, surprised her out of her reverie and she met the whites of his mask. "They've gone to a concert in Los Angeles," she answered, throwing the gloves to the end of the room near the equipment locker before turning back to look at him. "Why?" she asked. "Are you nervous being with me alone?" The words had escaped her lips without checking in with her brain, and she took a step toward her without consciously meaning to.

"Should I be?" he asked, none of the usual teasing and warmth she was used to hearing in his voice.

She couldn't see his eyes beyond the mask, but she didn't need to. She was rather astounded (although if she were in her right, logical mind, she might not have been. Speedy was a hero, first and foremost -- she _knew _that) that he had resisted her advances, subtle as they had been. But in the dark, warm pit deep inside her, where her sensuality was born, she knew the key to assuaging his hesitancy. She knew that all she had to do was assure him she wasn't a threat, that she was herself -- _just as she did for Robin that first time_-- and she could have him.

'_I bet he would make an excellent lover.' _

She took a step back, as if she were wary of an enemy, even though she knew the enemy she was fighting was inside her. "Help yourself to the gym," she said, her voice tight. "I'm going to go shower."

She started to walk past him, when his hand reached out and grabbed her arm, just above the wrist. _'That was a mistake,'_ she thought, even as somewhere inside her, there was triumphant laughter.

She turned on him and before he could ask her what he wanted to know, Raven had stepped against him, raising her free hand to the back of his neck, lowering his head so she could reach his lips. She watched the whites of his mask grow wide in surprise, felt the lines of his body tense, the grip on her arm start to loosen. Then their lips met and the grip tightened again and his other arm wrapped automatically around her waist, bringing her in tighter, helping her keep her balance as she stood on the balls of her feet to reach him easier, the tension easing out of his body as he curved toward her.

And his lips -- oh, they responded.

Warm and soft and oh so cunning. His kiss tasted like coffee and his hand on her arm felt warm and strong.

'_This isn't Robin.'_

The thought came unbidden, and faintly. No part of her could argue with it, however. It wasn't.

'_It's new -- he's willing.'_

And she knew that was true as well, and although she didn't feel the sinking she tended to feel when she kissed Robin, it was good. He was good. His hand trailed up her arm, stopping on her shoulder, and her suddenly free hand went to work at his waist, digging through the relatively pliant body armor of his uniform for the flesh beneath. He hadn't moved, however, except to hold her in place for his kiss, and the touch of her fingers on the skin she'd managed to bare of his abdomen must have surprised him, because he broke the kiss and used his hand on her shoulder to hold her apart.

He was breathing hard, but he used the hand that had been holding her to him to still the hand still touching his skin. "Who are you?" and there was no hint of teasing to his voice.

Unable to resist, Raven chuckled. "You surprise me, Speedy," she admitted. When his expression only darkened into further suspicion, she shook her head and relaxed her body, taking a step back from him, being as non-threatening as she could be. "There's really no way I can prove to you that I am the Raven you know --" she cocked her head to the side and smiled, "or, don't know - because let's face it - you don't really know me."

Speedy was obviously confused -- and she was sure the fact they'd just shared a very passionate embrace couldn't be helping his powers of deduction any.

"Did you honestly think I was always the Ice Queen?" she asked. She didn't move away from him, but she also noticed he hadn't stopped touching her. "Everyone wants to let loose once in awhile --" she said, her voice dropping a little lower, and when she looked at him, the amusement was gone from her expression. "Don't you sometimes just get horny?"

The out of character language had the desired effect and Speedy was startled out of looking at her as if he suspected that she had been body-snatched. He shook his head, and swallowed. "Not you," he answered, "This isn't like you at all."

She looked at him in the usual way she looked at him whenever he had tried to flirt with her before. "You don't know me, Speedy," she reminded him, her voice almost casually derisive. "You never have," she added dismissively. Before he could respond, she looked at him and smiled. "I'll tell you one thing about me, though," she leaned toward him, watching him. "Just because I wasn't willing to sleep with you when you were calling the shots doesn't mean I never would."

She watched as his inner struggle played across the lines of his face and laughed. "Who would've guessed?" she mused aloud. "Speedy _is_ all talk, after all." She neared him and, holding his gaze, whispered, "Do you remember that time on the roof when you swore you could show me an entirely more pleasurable way of feeling out of my own body?" She didn't wait for his answer, only licked her lips. "I wondered what you would do if I accepted."

Speedy's eyes took in every detail of her face, the line of her lips, the shape of her eyes, and then he met her eyes, and leaned in. "You're lying to me." She raised her brows but he didn't waver.

"Do you still not believe it's really me?" she asked. "If you're afraid someone's shape shifted into this form, or stolen this body, we can keep talking about things that happened between us when we were alone," she said, unconcerned. "You really did like to find me alone, didn't you?" she asked, as if it just occurred to her. And before he could speak, she raised a hand to touch his face. "although to tell you the truth, talking wasn't exactly what I had in mind we'd do."

He swallowed, but didn't move away from her hand. "That's not what I mean," he said.

She smiled at him. "Well, if you think this body is a glamour or illusion or a fake or something, there's only one way I can think to convince you otherwise..." she trailed off suggestively.

"Oh, I'm convinced it's really you," he admitted, watching her still and she was pleasantly surprised at the intent set of his jaw. "But you're still not telling me the truth about why you're doing this."

The smile turned decidedly complacent and her eyes darkened. "Do you care?" she asked.

He looked at her, hesitated just long enough that she wondered whether the hero had won out after all in his internal moral debate. But then he smirked, his lips twisting with an unfamiliar edge, the mask keeping her from noting whether or not it reached his eyes (and when the moon had set, she might care that she couldn't.) "Not enough," he answered, his voice low and rough and altogether _ravenous_ before dipping his head the rest of the way to capture her mouth.

xxxxxx

If she would have had full access to her powers, she would've realized he was there from the moment he stepped through the door. As it was, Speedy was suddenly gone before she opened her eyes and realized it was Robin's back standing between her and the red-headed archer that had been easing the aching tension in her body with his hands and mouth.

And even as the small part of her that hadn't been driven out by her wanton needs felt ashamed and guilty, the only thing she consciously thought as she watched Speedy stare down Robin in surprise was, _'That's twice now I've been denied ...'_

But then Robin spoke, and the basest of her instincts reacted with pleasure at Robin's show of dominance.

"Leave, Speedy," Robin commanded, the tone of his voice brooking no argument. "Now," he added when Speedy didn't seem inclined to move.

The expression on Robin's face surprised him with its vehemence and he blinked. "I don't know what the hell's going on, but--"

"No," Robin's clipped voice cut him off. "You don't."

Speedy's jaw clenched. "What the hell is your problem, Robin?" he demanded.

"Get the hell out of here before I forget that you don't know what's going on," Robin reiterated.

Speedy frowned. He might not be a master detective, but he could connect the dots in this case easily enough. It was obvious that whatever it was Raven had been hiding from him had to do with why Robin was acting like like a randy dog guarding a favorite fire hydrant, but he couldn't fathom what Robin could have to do with the way Raven had been responding to his touch. Unless it was some kind of revenge on Raven's part. A lover's spat, maybe. Even that didn't make sense. He shook his head. He may not know her well, but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't throw herself at someone just to get revenge on anyone. "Why don't you explain?" he asked, impatient and exasperated.

"Later," Robin said, glancing back at Raven. She hadn't moved an inch, but was watching the proceedings in rapt attention, as if waiting to see who would win, unwilling to ruin the fun by interfering.

"What kind of games are you two--" Speedy started, only to cut off at the naked warning on Robin's face.

"Not now."

Speedy looked at Raven, waiting to see if she would offer any further information Robin wasn't, but she was looking at Robin and making no move to explain or call a stop to Robin's reactions. As a matter of fact, she was looking at him as if he were a particularly tasty bit of candy she'd found in the bottom of her pocket. "Alright, fine," he exhaled, shaking his head again. "I don't get it, but fine," he started to walk away. "Batshit crazy, the both of 'em," he mumbled as he left the room.

When he was sure Speedy had left the Tower, Robin started to walk away without so much as a glance in Raven's direction.

"Leaving so soon?" she called to him, her voice had every element of welcome and suggestion -- everything two months of nights suggested but never could reveal.

His step halted; he was unable to resist it. He may have the best of intentions, may even be seething at more things than he could stop to consider in the moment, but he recognized what she was promising, knew she would deliver, and craved it.

He didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. "I'll see you in the morning," he said, walking the rest of the way to the door.

She was suddenly behind him, a hand on his arm, tugging at him to turn. She stood on the tips of her toes to look right in his eyes. "If you leave me now, Robin," she promised, "I'll find someone else."

Robin reacted before he'd even recognized the intent to move. He held her shoulders and was holding her so tightly she was still balancing on her toes. "Don't do this Raven," he said, his voice raw.

"Do what?" she asked, as if he hadn't walked in on a heavy make out session between her and another man, as if she weren't trying her utmost to get him to make love to her with every movement.

He searched her eyes. "I know you don't really want this," he told her.

She laughed, "Give me your hand and I'll show you exactly how much I want this."

"Raven."

She couldn't move her arms, or she would have touched him already. Her expression grew calm, serious. "Robin," she whispered throatily, "I want you." She lifted her face, licked at her lips. "Why don't you want me?"

Robin looked at her: captivated by the way desire had darkened her pupils to near black, the way her hair had come lose from its bindings and hung in disheveled waves just barely grazing her shoulders, her pulse beating rapidly just under her skin, the way she licked at her lips, swollen from another man's kiss and -- God help him -- he wanted her. It was too easy to forgive her, and entirely too easy to forget she wouldn't want this come moonset.

"I want you," he admitted.

"Then take me!" she half-growled, arching against him. "Take what you want," she dared.

The truth hit him like burgeoning pain: he wanted her, yes. But he wanted _all _of her, wanted to be _all _to her, wanted her to want to be with him not because of some reproductive urge, but because she wanted _him_. And he wanted to protect her. He loved her, and if to protect her he had to deny her, he would.

"Not tonight."

Raven frowned and seemed about to argue, but stopped when he let go of her arms and brought a hand to her cheek.

"Tell me tomorrow that you want me during the next full moon and I'll stay with you," he met her eyes. "I swear it." He let his thumb touch her lips and she opened her mouth for him. "But not tonight." He reached behind him to pull her arms from around him and gently placed his lips on hers for a chaste, tender kiss.

There was something in his kiss, something about the sudden whiff of Irish Spring and the outdoors, but more, it was about the way he was so careful, so gentle...

She felt the insistent push of passion recede, leaving behind only the feel of him all around her. She still wanted him, still wanted to press him to her, to touch him and pleasure him and receive pleasure in return, but she realized that she would be satisfied just to hold him and feel the strength of his presence and the warmth of his aura. She was surprised by the realization and even more surprised that when he moved away and left the room, she didn't follow him.

She didn't realized she had been crying until she felt a tear fall on the palm of the hand she'd raised to touch her lips.

xxxxxxxx

**Playlist****:**

(1) Beyond Here Lies Nothing, Bob Dylan

(2) Slow Like Honey, Fiona Apple

(3) Box of Sunshine, Infidel, Inc.

**A/N:** So? Hot? Stupid? Exciting? Boring? Whaddya think? Can you guys start to see where I'm heading? ::waggle brows::


	10. Completeness

**A/N:** I'll be honest with y'all. I had this one essentially done almost as soon as I posted the previous chapter. I did. I'm sorry I didn't take it from "essentially done" to "completely done" before now. I actually (since I've been bitten by the honesty bug, apparently) kind of forgot about it. In my defense, real life has been kicking my arse and being a lawyer is a whole hell of a lot harder and takes up a whole hell of a lot more time than I ever thought. That said...

Ta da!

I hope you like it.

**Thanks:** To all the usual suspects. You know who you are. ^_^ Any mistakes are entirely my own.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. No money made, no profits, etc, etc....

_**Instinct 2: Impulse  
Chapter 10: Completeness**_

_"The cry of my body for completeness. That is a cry for you."_  
-Mary Carolyn Davies

Raven had been soaking in the bathtub for about 15 minutes before she had been able to pinpoint what had changed. She still had a lingering ache, like a hunger not quite fulfilled, in the core of her, but it wasn't all consuming. She recognized that from the moment Robin left the Tower.

She still wanted him, but it didn't feel like she was suffering from an itch she couldn't quite reach anymore.

Still, she didn't realize _why_ that was different until she sat in the warm water, staring at the cream colored tile above the chrome faucet. He wanted her. He had chosen her as surely as she had chosen him. He had said it, plain as day. If she wanted him to stay with her and give her a child, he'd do it -- so long as she told him so when she was uninfluenced by the urge to procreate.

He'd do it.

Now that she'd found a mate who was willing to give her offspring, the urgency for that offspring waned. It was as if the knowledge that she had found a suitable and willing mate made even the part of her anxious to procreate realize that she had time. She was only barely 17. Logic blossomed with reason as she was assured the right of progeny.

She'd be a better mother if she were older, more experienced, ready to settle down to a life not as fraught with hazards. It would not only make for better chances of carrying a pregnancy to term, but it would make for a better environment in which to bring up a child as well.

Yes. Now that she had chosen a mate and that mate had agreed to father her children, she could wait.

It felt as if a vise clutching at her lungs eased with that realization -- as if whatever particles insides her body that had been set into overdrive were calmed. She still wanted him -- still missed his touch and the warmth of his presence, but she knew even if he were right in front of her now, she wouldn't need to bed him. And even if Speedy or another viable physical male were to be present, she wouldn't feel the urge to have sex with them either.

She missed him and the thought made her smile.

Without further thought, Raven reached over, lifting the Titan Communicator from atop the towel sitting on the closed toilet seat and dialed up Robin's frequency. It buzzed once before he picked it up. It didn't surprise her that he had chosen to use the voice only option.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," she confirmed, and although her voice wasn't altogether lacking in emotion, it was, she hoped, noticeably calm. "I wanted to talk to you," she admitted.

"Raven," he sighed, obviously wary.

"Don't worry, Boy Blunder," she said with a touch of laughter. "I'm not going to try to ravage you through our communicators."

There was a heavy pause while he tried to read her voice and she couldn't help surrendering to the amusement. "You'd be able to read me better if you could see my face and you know it," she said.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, ignoring her comment and admitting she was right.

It was her turn to pause as she thought. "Truthfully?" she asked, leaning back in the tub. "I just wanted to talk to you..." she let that statement hang in the air between them for a moment, before continuing. "But I suppose there is something we should talk about."

"Tonight?" he asked, his tone curious and careful.

"It doesn't have to be," she allowed, but I'd like it to be," and her tone was soft and almost hesitant.

"Alright," he agreed. And waited.

She sighed. "I'm sure you've noticed, but I've changed since you left."

"I've noticed," he admitted. "The question is, how deep a change?"

She wanted to laugh at his observation. It was just like him, but she didn't, because she knew he'd misunderstand.

"I'm still way more emotional than I am every other day," she explained, "but I'm calmer, too."

There was silence on the other end and she tried for a moment, to figure out where he was by any ambient sounds she could pick up, but her mortal hearing was sadly unhelpful and she picked up nothing other than the faint sound of his breath.

She lifted her legs so her knees peeked out of the water and her feet were flat on the tub and let her head rest on the bath pillow on the rim behind her. "I can't apologize for what I did with Speedy," she spoke. "Maybe I can tomorrow, but not tonight," she added. "But I am sorry if it pissed you off." She heard him exhale, and pressed on. "In any case," she continued when he still hadn't spoken. "I think I understand something about what happens to me during the full moon better, and it's all thanks to something you said."

"Yeah? What?"

She smirked. "What did I figure out or what did you say?"

He must have heard the humor in her voice, because he exhaled, and she could almost picture him trying to keep the serious expression. "Both."

"You said that you'd stay with me next month if I told you I wanted you to tomorrow," she said bluntly.

He exhaled. "Raven..."

"I'm not trying to seduce you, Robin," she hurried to assure him. "I'm only repeating what you said."

"Okay," he understood.

There was a pause on her end and she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "Did you mean it?" she asked, and only the excellent receivers in their communicators would have caught her voice.

She wished she could see him at that moment -- she wished she knew where he was, so she could picture him. But with her lack of demonic powers at the time, she was hard pressed to even feel the link between them. She was saddened by that realization.

"I did," he answered before she could think on how the not feeling the connection between them made her feel.

"Good."

"Will you take me up on it?" came his voice, just as soft as hers had been and she decided he must be somewhere private -- somewhere no one else was around because she couldn't hear anything else -- not traffic, or movement of any sort. He was somewhere alone and where he didn't have to move.

"I don't think so," she admitted. "Not the way you're thinking anyway."

"That is a change," and his voice was still wary -- as if he were still afraid this were some kind of trick.

"Well," she sighed. "It's related to the thing I figured out."

"Which was?"

She closed her eyes again and the sound of his voice in the room with her brought her comfort -- even if she couldn't feel the connection stretch between them and if she couldn't see him. "I decided it would be beneficial for any future offspring to be born into as ideal an environment as possible," she told him, her voice so relaxed, it was almost sleepy. It had to be close to three or four A.M. by now. The other Titans would be snoring peacefully in their L.A. hotel room, having been convinced by Robin before they decided to go to the concert, that it would be too late for the long drive to the Tower after the concert.

"And?"

"And raising a child at 17 or 18 while still a superhero is not an ideal environment," she conceded.

"And you didn't know this before?" he asked.

"I knew," she admitted. "But my biological imperative took precedence to that logic," she admitted. "Being pregnant now would not be ideal, but it would be better than not being pregnant at all."

"So what changed?" he asked, trying to figure it out.

"You've agreed to comply," she answered simply. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling again, lowering her shoulders into the water so she wouldn't be so cold. "You want me too...you'll father my children -- my biological imperative is satisfied...for now."

"I've agreed, so now you don't have to rush to find the first willing donor?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes," she confirmed.

He was quiet, but this time, she heard him shift, the rustle of fabric and she pictured him sitting up in a bed in some hotel room somewhere behind her closed lids. "So you're not..." he trailed off. "You're not needing to--" he cut himself off again. "You don't want me--"

"Oh, I still want you," she interrupted his attempts. She grinned and there was that edge of wickedness in it. "I'm still so hot for you, Robin..." her voice was low and smoky and she had brought the communicator close to her mouth.

She heard the sharp inhale of his breath. "Raven," he said.

She couldn't decide if it was a question or an admonition. "I want to see you," she continued. "To touch you..." she shifted and water splashed along the sides of the tub. "I _want_ to feel you inside me."

She heard the rustle of clothes, wondered if he was sleeping in his boxer-briefs or if he had left his jeans on. She could probably give them both some pleasure just through their communicators -- some release, but she had something else she wanted to explain to him, something she _needed_ him to understand.

"Robin?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice hoarse and slightly choked.

She sat up in the tub again, the water running down her body pleasurable. "I want you," she repeated and wasn't sure if she heard him groan or not. "But I can wait." There was silence on the other end of the line and she wasn't sure he understood her or not. "Do you understand?" she asked. "I can wait," she reiterated. "Even if you were here, Robin, even if you were in front of me, holding me -- just holding me -- it wouldn't be everything, but it would be enough."

"Are you saying...?"

"I'm saying come home," she told him. "I want to see you." She exhaled. "I want to fall asleep in your arms."

"Raven, I don't know that this is a good idea," he hedged.

"Okay," she said after a moment. "That's fine. I understand."

And she did, really. She knew he still thought it was a trick.

There was silence between them, and she sighed. "I'm going to sleep now," she told him, reaching with her toes to unplug the tub. The water began draining immediately. "Goodnight, Robin."

"Raven."

"Yes?" she asked, finger hovering over the button that would end the call.

"Nothing," he decided. "Goodnight."

She closed the communication and, placing the small round device aside, stood and reached for her towel. She was very tired suddenly.

_xxxxxxx_

Raven was a very light sleeper, but for some reason, she didn't wake up until she felt the dip in the mattress behind her.

She jerked awake and turned on instinct, starting to put distance between her and whoever was crawling into her bed, but she froze at the sound of her name. Her room was dark, as it usually was, and with her still human vision, she could only vaguely make out the outline of a shape sitting on the bed. But she knew that voice.

"It's just me," he said.

She smiled, feeling the warmth of recognition flood her awareness and she leaned back on the mattress, toward his heat. "You came."

"I want to fall asleep with you in my arms, too," he admitted.

"You're not afraid I was just trying to trick you into coming back?" she asked.

"It was a chance I couldn't resist."

She was still smiling, and she reached out to touch his face, felt him tense, and let her hands trail from his forehead down to his lips. "I'm glad," she told him, leaning into him, pressing her lips against his. He responded, but let her take control of the kiss and she kept it achingly chaste and gentle. When they parted, he hugged her and she fit her head against his shoulder.

"Me too," he said, his voice low against her ear, his breath caressing her cheek.

She hmmed in the back of her throat and wrapped her arms around his torso. "I think we best go back to sleep now," she said against his shoulder.

He chuckled. "Good idea," he said, and as graceful as ever, he shifted and lay her back against the mattress and settled behind her as he brought the sheets over them both.

"Robin?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"Are you wearing pajamas?" she asked.

He chuckled and she found herself chuckling with him, even as their hands entwined at her waist and his leg slipped between hers. "It's been a very tiring night," he answered.

She shifted until her back was pressed against his front and her cheek rested on his right arm like a pillow. "I agree," she sighed.

He placed a soft kiss on her bare shoulder and with that, they fell asleep.

_xxxxxx_

**A/N:** As you can probably tell from this chapter, this story is nearing its end. There's probably a few things I need to wrap up, but we're getting there, kiddies, so, yeah. Get ready. If there's any of you out there still reading, that is.

Feel free to review and tell me what you'd like to see happen before it ends. I make no promises, but who knows? Your ideas / comments might very well inspire something. ::wink::


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